"
"Do you think I _could_?" she said.
"I think you could probably do anything with him if you gave your mind
to it."
He meant it. He meant it. That was really his opinion of her. Her
lifted face was radiant as she drank bliss at one draught from the cup
he held to her. But she was not yet satisfied.
"You'd _like_ me to do it?"
"I should very much."
His voice was firm, but his eyes looked uneasy and ashamed.
"Would you like me to get him back in the choir?"
"I'd like you to get him back into anything that'll keep him out of
mischief."
She raised her chin. There was a more determined look on her small,
her rather insignificant face than he would have thought to see there.
She rose.
"Very well," she said superbly. "I'll do it."
He held out his hand.
"I don't say, Miss Cartaret, that you'll reclaim him."
"Nor I. But--if you want me to, I'll try."
They parted on it.
Rowcliffe smiled as he closed the surgery door behind him.
"That'll give her something else to think about," he said to himself.
"And it'll take her all her time."
XXIV
The next Sunday, early in the afternoon, Alice went, all by herself,
to Upthorne.
Hitherto she had disliked going to Upthorne by herself. She had no
very subtle feeling for the aspects of things; but there was something
about the road to Upthorne that repelled her. A hundred yards or so
above the schoolhouse it turned, leaving behind it the wide green
bottom and winding up toward the naked moor.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113