Part 196

"Little monkeys. Send them to me if you can't manage them."

"It isn't that. It is--I don't think it's right for me to stay."

"Not right?"

"On the children's account, I mean."

He looked at her and a shade, a tremor, of uneasiness passed over his face.

"I say," he said, "you don't think they're unhappy?"

(She smiled).

"--Without their mother?" He jerked it out with a visible effort.

"No. If they were I shouldn't be so uneasy."

"Come, you don't want them to be unhappy, do you?"

"No. I don't want anybody to be unhappy. That's why I think I'd better go."

"On their account?" he repeated, hopelessly adrift.

"Theirs, and their mother's."

"But it's on their account--and--their mother's--that we want you."

"I know; but it isn't fair to them or to--Mrs. Brodrick that they should be so dependent on me."

"But--they're babies."

"Not quite--now. It isn't right that I should be taking their mother's place, that they should look to me for everything."

"But," he broke in irritably, "they don't. Why should they?"

"They do. They must. You see, it's because I'm on the spot."

"I see." He hid his frowning forehead with one hand.

"I know," she continued, "it can't be helped. It isn't anybody's fault. It's--it's inevitable."

"Yes. For the present it's--inevitable."

They both paused on that word.

"I suppose," he said, "you're really afraid that they'll get too fond of you?"

"Yes."

"They're very fond of their mother, aren't they?"

"Yes--if she were always here."

"Of course, it does make your position a little difficult. Still, we don't want them to fret for her--we don't want them not to be fond of you. Besides, if you went, what on earth would they do without you?"