“But why should his patience frighten you?”

“Oh!” said Grace, “can’t you understand?  You know father’s habits and that Gerald is following him.  You know our debts are mounting up and this can’t go on.  Some day we may be ruined and then I think Alan will seize his chance.  Perhaps I’m imaginative—­but such things happen.”

Mrs. Osborn put her hand on the girl’s arm and her touch was unusually firm.  “You may be alarmed for nothing, my dear.  But if the time should come when my help is really needed, it will be yours.”

Grace kissed her.  “I can trust you.  I was weak—­I’m sometimes a coward—­but now I’m comforted.”

They were silent for a few minutes and then Mrs. Osborn looked up.

“Is it prudent for you to meet Christopher Askew again?”

Grace colored, but met her mother’s glance and answered with a thoughtful calm; “I see no danger.  I liked Kit before he went away, but our friendship was really not romantic.  When father met us in Redmire Wood, a horribly silly impulse made me hide.  I blush when I think about it and imagine I forgot I had grown up—­Gerald and I used to hide when father was angry.  Anyhow, I made Kit Askew hide and he was first to remember and step into the road.”

“But this happened long since and he is older.”

“Yes,” said Grace, “he’s different, although one feels that he has kept a promise made in his half-developed stage.  He has been out in the world and done strenuous things, while I stayed at home and played at make-believe.  He talks like a man who knows his value and there’s a touch of distinction in his look; a stupid word, but it comes near what I mean.”

Mrs. Osborn glanced at her sharply, but Grace smiled.

“Don’t be disturbed, mother; I am trying to tell you all I think.  We were friends, but I imagine Kit knows his drawbacks from our point of view.  Besides, after father quarreled with Peter Askew I never sent Kit a message, and he must have thought I acquiesced.  In a way, I did acquiesce; it was the best thing to be done.  You see what this implied?  If I had loved him, it meant I had no pluck and was ashamed to acknowledge a farmer’s son.  But he knew I did not love him and understood that our friendship would not bear the strain of father’s disapproval.  Either way, it hinted that I was weak and not worth pursuing.  Well, he met me without embarrassment and we talked about nothing important.  I may meet him now and then, but that, I think, is all.”

“Very well,” said Mrs. Osborn, who looked relieved.  “Perhaps it would be prudent not to meet him often.”

Grace smiled and was silent for a time.  She had tried to be frank and thought she had stated things correctly—­so far as she knew.  Then she remembered Kit’s look when she stopped and spoke, and began to wonder.  Perhaps she had not told all and the little she had left out was important.  By and by she got up and went into the house.