The two men stood with their backs to the room for a few minutes while Philip was apparently showing the visitor the few books they possessed and the meager samplesof the student work that they kept. But finally Christopherturned around and watched her as she listened to andhelped each reader. He stood with his legs slightly apart, arms folded across his chest, looking totally out of place inthe very modest setting of the schoolroom, thought Rebecca, though she did not once look directly at him.
Philip too turned around when Cyril began to read. Rebecca had found him a book in which the print waslarger than in the others. She believed that under normalcircumstances he might have read slightly better than usual.But these were not normal circumstances. The child glancednervously around at Philip and in the process was alsoreminded that another strange and very formidable-lookingstranger stood there, his whole attention on the class. Hisreading was quite incoherent. After a mere minute Rebecca told him gently to sit down and called the name ofanother boy. She was relieved that Philip said nothing.
The two men still lingered when she had dismissed school for the morning and the boys who lived too farfrom the village to go home for luncheon had taken theirfood outside. Rebecca stood at the table, straighteningbooks that already stood in a neat pile.
“I am impressed, Miss Shaw,” Christopher said, moving toward the front of the room. “You have done your work well. The boys are amazingly proficient in reading,considering the fact that they have been coming to schoolfor only a few months.”
“I am pleased with them,” Rebecca said, looking unwillingly up into his face. “But Philip works very hard too.”
He nodded. “You have commendable patience,” he said, his eyes smiling at her. “You always did, I remember. You would do tasks for the elderly even when theywere tedious enough to try the patience of a saint. I wouldbe inclined to yell and fume if every time a boy came tothe wordtheI had to tell him what it was.”
“Yes,” she said, “Ben cannot get over that stumbling block. But he so consistently improves in all other areasthat I do not have the heart to get cross with him over thatone problem.”
Philip spoke, and they both turned toward him as if only then remembering his presence. “I really think we musttell Cyril’s parents that they are wasting their time sendinghim here,” he said. “He is our only real failure, Mr.Sinclair. The child does not even try, and it seems that onecannot force learning on anyone.”
“Oh, no,” Rebecca protested, “I think you are too harsh, Philip. It is true that he is not doing well in reading,but you must have noticed that he is more than satisfactoryin arithmetic. And he does care. If he did not, he wouldnot have become as nervous as he did this morning, knowing that you and Mr. Sinclair were listening to him. Anyway, Philip, I believe I have discovered his problem. Ihave been meaning to speak to you about it.”
“Perhaps another time,” Philip said. “We do not want to bore Mr. Sinclair with minor matters. Shall we go forluncheon, sir? My housekeeper will be expecting us.”
“In a moment,” Christopher said. “I should like to hear first what Cyril’s problem is. I felt great sympathy forthe lad, I must admit.”
“He cannot see well,” Rebecca said. “I visited his home a couple of days ago, and he told me the words willnot stay still on the page when he reads.”
“Ah,” he said, “I believe you are probably right. The boy must be fitted for eyeglasses.”
Rebecca stared at him blankly. Had his years in London removed him so far from reality? She could hardly keepthe contempt from her voice when she spoke. “One mightas well tell his parents to take him to the moon for a cureas advise them to buy him eyeglasses,” she said. “Theywould have to work a lifetime to pay for them.”
He looked searchingly back at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he nodded slightly but said nothing.
“My opinion is still the same,” Philip said. “If the boy cannot see to read, there is really no point in his beinghere. He would be better off and less frustrated workingwith his father. I do believe, as I always have, that all ourchildren should have the right to an education, but it would be foolish to insist that everyone participate.”
‘‘Girls, for instance,” Rebecca said with a smile. She did not really treat the topic as a joke, but she felt that themoment called for lightheartedness.
Christopher grinned unexpectedly, looking disturbingly like the old Christopher. “Do I detect a grievance, Be—Miss Shaw?” he asked.
“Rebecca has several ideas that are very humane but quite impracticable,” Philip said without a glimmer of asmile. “Shall we go for luncheon?”
The invitation did not include Rebecca. Philip had explained when they first became betrothed that no breath of scandal should ever attach itself to their persons. She hadnever so much as been over the doorstep of the parsonagesince he had moved in. And even on this occasion Philipobviously deemed it improper to ask her to dine with twosingle gentlemen.
Rebecca was very thankful now, though, for her betrothed’s strict notions of propriety.
Primrose and Julian Sinclair were in the drawing room drinking tea with Maude and Mr. Bartlett when Rebeccaarrived home that afternoon. She was feeling unusuallytired after the nervous tension of the morning and the longwalk home through weather that had turned cold and blustery. She was thankful that brother and sister had comealone.
“How do you do, Miss Shaw?” Primrose cried gaily. “I have ridden Peter all this way today. Papa said I wasaccustomed enough to riding him that I could take himsome distance. Julian insisted on coming too just in casethere was any trouble.” She pulled a face and then giggled. “Though what he would have done if Peter hadsuddenly decided to bolt with me on his back I do notknow.”
“I really had to make sure that she did not do anything foolish like trying to gallop across the fields,” Julianexplained as if his sister were not present. “Prim used todo that with old Mollie when she thought no one waslooking. But then old Mollie’s gallop was a mere trot byany normal standard.”
“It is terrible to be the youngest in the family,” Primrose said indignantly. “Everyone thinks I am still a baby to be protected instead of a seventeen-year-old young lady.”
“Sorry, Prim,” Julian said uncontritely, “but sometimes you play the part too convincingly.”
“Well, Christopher can see that I am grown up anyway,” Primrose said, and turned her attention to Maude and Rebecca, her eyes dancing. “He says that Ellen and Imay have a Season next year,” she said. “He will be intown again and he will see that we are admitted to all theimportanttonevents. Even to Almack’s.”
“How splendid for you,” Maude said warmly. “I am sure your brother will make sure that you have a wonderfulcome-out Season.”
“Papa did think I would be too young,” Primrose said. “I nearly died! But Mama reminded him that I will beeighteen soon after Christmas, and he has said I may go.”
“Christopher wants to send me on a Grand Tour,”Julian said. “It has always been my dream to travel,especially to Greece. But it just seems too extravagant. Heis very insistent, though.”
