‘And you don’t care what women think? You might have put off that lesson till you were a little older. At your age what your mother thinks should surely be something to you still.’ He gave her a look which was full of pain. Was that what he was thinking? Was he sure to care little for what women thought? ‘You know better, mother,’ he said harshly. He was all rubbed the wrong way--thwarted, wearied, unhappy. ‘I only came for a book,’ he continued, after a moment, picking up the first one he got hold of, and then, with a little nod to the visitor, went upstairs again. What did that visitor want here? Why did he leave his own house, and Cara alone--poor Cara!--whom nobody loved as Edward did? It would be a great deal better for Mr. Beresford if he would stay at home. After this little episode Edward sat down stubborn and unyielding to his work again. What did it matter if a man was happy or unhappy? He had his day’s work to get through all the same. ‘Don’t think him harsh. I am afraid my boy is not quite happy,’ said Mrs. Meredith, with tears in her eyes. ‘That is nothing,’ he said. ‘I am not a friend of yesterday; but he came in when we were talking----’ ‘Ah, yes,’ she said, but her eyes were still full of Edward; ‘what was it we were talking about?’ ‘I am afraid if you say that, it is sufficient answer to my question,’ said Mr. Beresford, more wounded than he could have supposed possible; for he wanted to be first with her, though he did not wish it in the vulgar way that was supposed. ‘You are not to be angry,’ she said, with a deprecating look, laying her hand softly on his arm; ‘you must not be hard upon me. When they are boys we wish them to be men, but anxiety grows with their growth; and now I think sometimes I should be glad to have them boys again.’ ‘Boys, boys!’ he exclaimed, with natural impatience, ‘is that all you think of? Yet there are other interests in the world.’ ‘How selfish I am!’ she cried, rousing herself suddenly. ‘That is true. You must forgive me; but I am so used to talk to you of everything, whatever is in my heart.’ This melted him once more. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘we talk to each other of everything; we have no secrets between us. There is nothing in the world I would not do for you, nor you, I think, for me. Do you know what people are thinking about you and me? They think that being so near we should be nearer; that we might help one another better. That was what I wanted to ask you. Don’t you think it is so?’ He wanted her to commit herself first, and she was willing enough that he should commit himself, but not that she should. She was embarrassed, yet she met his eyes with a half smile. ‘I think it is not a case for heeding what people think. Are we not very well as we are? How could we be better than as fast friends--friends through fire and water?’