Give my love to the girls.'"
She laughed again. "How absurd and childish he is! But he is true and
able. And how glad you should be that you are able to make true friends,
without an effort. Yesterday I met neighbour Fairley, and another little
old Elder who keeps his chin in his collar and his eyes on the sky. They
did little else but sing your praises. One might have thought that you
had invented the world-or Hamley."
"Yet they would chafe if I were to appear among them without these." He
glanced down at the Quaker clothes he wore, and made a gesture towards
the broadbrimmed hat reposing on a footstool near by.
"It is good to see that you are not changed, not spoiled at all," she
remarked, smiling. "Though, indeed, how could you be, who always work for
others and never for yourself? All I envy you is your friends. You make
them and keep them so."
She sighed, and a shadow came into her eyes suddenly. She was thinking of
Eglington. Did he make friends--true friends? In London--was there one
she knew who would cleave to him for love of him? In England--had she
ever seen one? In Hamley, where his people had been for so many
generations, had she found one?
Herself? Yes, she was his true friend.
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