"Yes," Mr Wynyard agreed, "it is by far the best solution of the difficulty. There is no fear of infection. Isabel has had all these childish illnesses long ago--and you too, Regina, I suppose? Otherwise your mother would not think of your returning home to meet your brother." "Yes," I answered, "Moore and I, and Horry, I think, had scarlet fever and all these things together. It would be quite delightful to have Moore here, if you are sure he would not be at all in the way. He is really not a tiresome kind of boy, I must say." "No, indeed," exclaimed Isabel. "We saw that at Weissbad, when he was so often alone with you and me, Regina, and quite content with our society." "In some ways," I said, "the others call me more of a boy than him at home;" and I reddened a little, feeling half ashamed of the confession before Mr Wynyard. But he did not seem to mind it; rather the other way indeed. "It would do Zella no harm to have a little of the boy element instilled into her," he said with a smile. "But there is no time to be lost in arranging this new plan. Let me see! Must Moore go home first? Yes, I suppose it is on the way." "I think it would be better," I replied. "Winchester is really only a short way from home, and he is sure to want to pick up things there. I do hope father won't think it too far for him to come for so short a time." "It need not be so short a time, as far as we are concerned," said Mr Wynyard hospitably. "But of course the boy will have to get back to school again whenever he can. I'll tell you what," he went on, "I will write to your father myself, which I think will ensure Moore's being allowed to come." "Oh, thank you," I said gratefully, and indeed I felt so. "Your father is _very_ kind," I said to Isabel when we were by ourselves. "I am getting to feel much less afraid of him." Isabel looked pleased at this. "I told you so," she said. "I can't imagine being afraid of him unless I knew I was doing something wrong." Her words recalled our discussion about the Grim House. "I know," I thought to myself, "who _would_ sympathise with me about it to the full, and that's Moore. I wonder if I dare tell him." Then another warning returned to my mind--that of Jocelyn. "How curious that he should have thought of such a possibility as Moore's coming here," I said to myself. "I feel half inclined to look at things from the `Kismet' point of view. `What is to be, will be.' If Moore's coming here helps me to go on with my investigations without involving Isabel, which I now see I have no right to do, it will seem as if it was all _meant_. That's to say, if I make up my mind to tell him about it, in spite of Jocelyn's fatherly advice." And in my heart I think I knew that I should never have the resolution to keep the fascinating subject to myself, once Moore was on the spot.