Free Such is love by Mary Burchell Page A

vehemence seemed to amuse him slightly.
    "You don't have to be interested just because I am," he told her reassuringly. "But I expect you were more interested in the personal side—the children themselves rather than in the first-class organization."
    "Yes, I was. That—that little boy who was so friendly— I thought he was sweet."

    "Yes. A nice child. I'm afraid I'm not much good at patting their little heads and making conversation. The business side of the place is more in my line than personal contacts."
    "I didn't imagine / knew much about what to say to children, but he was quite easy."
    Her husband nodded carelessly.
    "Van, I like him so much." She tried to make that sound like any woman who just happened to be intrigued by the child. "I wonder if I could have him home?"
    Van looked simply astounded.
    "For the day, do you mean? I shouldn't think so, my dear. I imagine that sort of thing would be very unsettling for an institution child. I am sure the Kellabys wouldn't encourage it."
    She knew he didn't mean it at all unkindly, but to hear her little boy described as 'an institution child' set her teeth on edge.
    "You—^you could use a certain amount of influence, I suppose?"
    "I could, Gwyneth," he said a trifle dryly, "but I don't think I should. The child is probably very well where he is, and in our particular position, we are scarcely the people who ought to start agitating for rules to be broken."
    She was silent, not because she thought—as he evidently did—that the discussion was ended, but because she was thinking how to approach it in a different way.
    "Van, we shall go down there again on Founders' Day, shan't we?"
    "Certainly, if you would like to. I almost always go. And I'm sure they would take it as a pleasant compliment if you came, too."
    "I should like to."
    There was silence again for a while and, glancing at him, she felt sure that his thoughts were now on something else —^probably business affairs, since their drawing near London would bring those to his mind. She must speak to him again, before he was quite detached from his profound, if impersonal, interests in Greystones.
    "Van."
    "Um-hm?"
    "If I spoke very tactfully to Mrs. Kellaby on Founders'

    Day, and found out whether we could have—have Toby for a visit, would you have any personal objection? I mean, if they don't object?"
    Van slowed the car and looked at her in surprise.
    "My dear girl, are you seriously suggesting the child should stay with us?"
    "Yes." She hoped he wouldn't hear that she spoke with the obstinacy of despair.
    "Why, Gwyneth, I think that's a little too impulsive a decision, don't you?"
    "It isn't a decision exactly. I—I just wanted to discuss it and see how you liked the idea."
    There was a pause, then he said dryly and flatly:
    "I don't Hke it at all?"
    "Oh, Van, why?"
    "My dear, we've only been married a few weeks—only had our home to ourselves for about ten days. Decidedly, I don't want a child running about the place."
    She didn't answer, and perhaps he got the impression that she resented his saying that. He flushed rather deeply, an extremely unusual thing with him.
    "Well," he said slowly, "I'll amplify that to what I really mean. I don't specially want a child about the place unless it's my chUd."
    He couldn't possibly know, of course, how terribly significant his way of putting it seemed to her. He had said 'my child'—not 'your child' or even 'our child'. Somehow his choice of words seemed to shut a door against Toby.
    There didn't seem anything else to say, but evidently her silence troubled him, because he stopped the car altogether, turning to face her with his arm along the back of the seat.
    "Gwyneth, did you resent my saying that?"
    "About not wanting Toby, you mean?"
    "No." He dismissed Toby again with very slight impatience. There was a short pause. Then he said with something of an effort: "Did you mind the implication that we might have a child of our own some time?"
    "Van!—of course