"It's nearer the door and he doesn't have to hobble so far with his two sticks."
"Mother!" Claire exclaimed, and she uttered a sound of pity. "He doesn't mind! He goes on fairly long walks with that dowdy sister of his, in spite of his two sticks. I've about made up my mind to ask Mr. Rennie to"
"You mustn't," her mother interrupted in alarm. "Claire, please! We don't know Mr. Rennie well enough, and I'm sure he'd understand what you're up to."
"'Up to'?" the girl repeated, with an almost perfect air of wondering incredulity. "Mr. Rennie would understand what I'm 'up to'? What in the world are you talking about?"
"Oh, dear! Whenever you begin to be hypocritical with me, I know there's no chance of doing anything with you."
"Why, yes, there is," Claire said surprisingly. "I won't ask Mr. Rennie; I've just decided not to."
"Then it's because you've decided on something worse. What that poor man and his sister desire is rest and seclusion, and heaven knows he needs it! I think you ought to let him alone."
