“Can’t you sleep?” Ellen asked again. “Are you homesick?”
“Not exactly that. But it does seem rather strange for us to be off here so far, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, I don’t see how I can forgive myself for making you come,” said Ellen, but her voice did not sound as if she were very unhappy.
“You couldn’t help it,” said Boyne, and the words suggested a question to him. “Do you believe that such things are ordered, Ellen?”
“Everything is ordered, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so. And if they are, we’re not, to blame for what happens.”
“Not if we try to do right.”
“Of course. The Kentons always do that,” said Boyne, with the faith in his family that did not fail him in the darkest hour. “But what I mean is that if anything comes on you that you can’t foresee and you can’t get out of—” The next step was not clear, and Boyne paused. He asked,
“Do you think that we can control our feelings, Ellen?”
“About what?”