Jacynth, who had worshiped the very ground she stood upon, should refuse to touch her hand, was very terrible to her.
She sat down. There was a moment of intense silence, then dully, spiritlessly, she asked:
"Why have you come here, then?"
"To see you—to help and advise you, if you will take my help, and to tell you about Ronny."
"Ah, Ronny!" she cried, looking at him with a sudden eagerness, while a pink flush flooded her pale cheeks. "Where is Ronny? I must have him. Will you bring him to me now—at once—this very night?"
"My dear Lady Francis, I want you to be very reasonable and sensible, and to listen to me."
"I never was reasonable and sensible in my life," she began—with a little pout and a shrug of her shoulders that reminded him almost too painfully of her own wayward self—"but I will listen if you like," she added humbly.
"I want you to let Ronny be where he is—for the present at least. He is with my sister Helen, and with Grandison her boy, his old playfellow. I think it would be good for them both to be left together. My nephew has an excellent tutor, and Ronny can share his lessons. My sister has taken them both down to the country, to her home in Sussex. She was very hard to you, Fenella, but she is not really a bad-hearted woman, and she was very, very sorry for poor
