"Did she?" He paused. "I don't remember."
"No, you can't," she answered sorrowfully. "I wish you could."
"I've only the faintest and most shadowy recollection—just a dim idea of somebody," he replied. "But in my little childish troubles I always had you. I don't think I wanted any one else."
Judith took his hand in hers, and held it for a moment fondly clasped: "You can't think how much I like to hear you say that."
Lisle blushed, and was thankful for the dim light. "Do you know," he said hurriedly, "I rather think I may have a chance of giving old Clifton warning before long?"
"Oh, Bertie! Where could you get anything else as good?"
"Not five-and-twenty miles away." Bertie named a place which they had passed on their journey to Brenthill. "Gordon of our choir told me of it this evening. I think I shall run over to-morrow and make inquiries."
"But why would it be so much better?"
"There's a big grammar school and they have a chapel. I should be organist there."
"But do they pay more?" she persisted.