“I would not wish to be so melodramatic,” he said. He took a deep breath and continued with seeming hesitation.“But your cousin is a wealthy heiress, Becky, even ifLady Holmes should produce an heir, and Bartlett is not awealthy man.”
“You are accusing him of being a fortune hunter!” Rebecca said, stopping in the middle of the dance floorand staring at him with wide-eyed indignation. “Howperfectly despicable you are! It is true that he has nomoney—he is the first to admit the fact. But he hasqualities that are vastly superior to all the wealth in theworld. He has kindness and integrity and concern for thewelfare of others.”
“Becky,” he said sharply, “are you sure you wish to create a public scene? Shall we dance? You may continueyour tirade into my ear.”
Rebecca felt as if she would explode with anger, but the wisdom of his words was not to be denied. She forcedherself to smile as they began to dance again and composed her face.
“I will not allow you of all people to throw suspicion upon Mr. Bartlett,” she said with controlled fury. “He hastold me about you, sir. I know that you have alreadyruined his life and that of the woman he loved. Can younot be content with what you have done and cease tormenting him now?”
“Do you refer to Angela?” he asked quietly.
“You must know that I do,” she said. “And you must know that I despise you, sir. You may believe that everyone whose pockets are to let is scheming to acquire someone else’s money. But not every man is like you. I wouldconsider Harriet fortunate to receive an offer from Mr. Bartlett and I would applaud her good sense if she accepted him.”
‘‘I see,” Christopher said, his voice almost unnaturally calm. “There seems nothing more for me to say then, doesthere? Pardon me, Becky, for trying to offer advice whereit is not wanted. The music is ending—to our mutualrelief, I am sure.”
And the ball was ending too, Rebecca discovered. She had never been so glad of anything in her life. She couldnot have imagined an evening more full of emotionalupheaval.
Chapter 9
Rebecca saw very soon the next day what Philip’s surprise was. The boys came into the schoolhouse more quietly than usual, but with stifled giggles. She did notlook up from the book she was scanning until they were allinside and seated on the benches. Then she raised her headand looked straight into the bespectacled eyes of anuncomfortable-looking Cyril. The boys burst into openlaughter at her expression, and Cyril squirmed in discomfort.
“What?” she said. “Cyril, how perfectly splendid! But how did this come about?”
Cyril merely grinned sheepishly.
“The reverend took him into Wraxby yestiddy, miss,” one of the other boys volunteered.
“The Reverend Everett?” Rebecca asked in surprise. “He bought the spectacles for you, Cyril?”
“Yes, miss,” the boy nodded.
But how could he have done it? What sacrifice had he had to make to be able to buy eyeglasses for one of hispupils? But was not that just like Philip? One day he wastalking about dismissing the boy from the school; and thenext, he was making quite sure that the boy had as muchof a chance to learn as the others.
“And do they make a difference, Cyril?” she asked. “Can you see more clearly with them?”
“Oh, miss,” he said, his eyes wide behind the glass lenses. “I didn’t know there was so much to see. When Iwent home, me mum laughed because all I did was look at the blanket on me bed. I could see all the threads woventogether, miss, all in and out in a perfect pattern.”
The boys all roared with laughter at the excitement in Cyril’s voice. Rebecca had to clap her hands for silence.
‘‘That is wonderful, Cyril,” she asked. “And now we will be able to find out if you can also read.”
No miracle had occurred, of course. Cyril had not suddenly become a fluent reader. Nevertheless, Rebecca was encouraged by the fact that he could puzzle over eachword and sometimes work out in his mind what one was.It seemed obvious at least that now he could see clearlywhat letters were in each word. She felt confident that witha little time and practice he would soon catch up to the restof the pupils.
Philip did not put in an appearance at all during the morning. Rebecca did not know whether she wanted to seehim or not. She was eager to question him about Cyril andto find out how and why he had helped the boy. On theother hand, her mind was still in turmoil from the nightbefore. They had been very late arriving home, and knowing that she had to teach the following day, she had forcedher mind blank so that she might sleep. And this morning,knowing that she had a day of teaching ahead, she hadkept her mind blank. She would think later, she haddecided, when she had the time and the privacy.
She knew only that the evening before had been like some kind of nightmare in which everything that couldhave gone wrong had done so. And somewhere in thejumble of problems that she was going to have to facesoon were those concerning Philip—not only her feelingsfor him, but also his for her. Had she really seen himkissing Maude? The idea seemed quite preposterous in thecold light of day. But she would not think of it now.
Philip came to the schoolroom during the afternoon, only a short while before the boys were to be dismissed.He was holding himself more than usually upright, Rebecca noticed at a glance. And his face was even sternerthan it usually was and very definitely pale. He merely nodded to her, greeted the boys, who had all risen to theirfeet at his entry, and walked to the back of the room,where he stood, hands clasped behind his back, staring outof the window until the day’s lessons were over.
Rebecca joined him there when the last of the pupils had left. “Philip,” she said, “I very much liked your surprise.”He looked blankly at her for a moment. “Ah,” he said,“Cyril. And have the eyeglasses made all the difference,Rebecca?’ ’
She smiled. “Not in one day,” she said. “But they will, Philip. His eyesight must be extremely poor. All dayhe kept us amused by his excitement at discovering somenew detail that he has been unaware of until now.”
“Yes, I know,” Philip said. “I had that all the way home from Wraxby yesterday.”
“Philip,” she said timidly. “How could you do it? I do know that Cyril’s father could not afford to buy him theeyeglasses if he saved for five years. Did you pay for themyourself?”
Philip looked uncomfortable. “There was some money left from the school that I had been saving for emergencies,” he said. “I considered this emergency enough.”
