"Oh, yes, if you think so."
Between the generation that was passing and the one coming forward was a great gulf fixed—Mary and John were on one side. For a moment rebellion seized her. Why could she not relinquish this—the dim hills before her, the bearded figure beside her, the responsibilities that preyed upon her? Why not escape to the other side?
They were passing the cross-roads where Starlight had picked up the stone in his shoe. Mary leaned forward; one vision rose before her; her rebellion culminated in one need—David, David Rossitur.
She saw him again as she had last seen him, climbing the hill towards the School House, his lean figure bent forward against the wind, the sun on his eager face, his red hair blowing in untidy locks across his forehead, the sleeves that were always too short for his long wrists....
John spoke again.
"Then you think it will be all right if I tell Toby to transfer that Insurance Policy?"
"Oh, yes. Anything you like," answered Mary.
On the hall-table at Anderby a note awaited her. She opened it listlessly while John removed his hat and coat.
"Anything the matter?" he asked suddenly, noticing her white face. "What's that?"
"This? Oh, nothing. Only a note from Coast to say he's afraid he can't let the boys have a holiday to go brassocking this year. He is a fool."