"The Lord is very good to me!"
Mary Garland said nothing to this; but she looked at Rowland, and her
eyes seemed to contain a kind of alarmed appeal. Rowland noted it with
exultation, but even without it he would have broken into an eager
protest.
"Are you serious, Roderick?" he demanded.
"Serious? of course not! How can a man with a crack in his brain be
serious? how can a muddlehead reason? But I 'm not jesting, either; I
can no more make jokes than utter oracles!"
"Are you willing to go home?"
"Willing? God forbid! I am simply amenable to force; if my mother
chooses to take me, I won't resist. I can't! I have come to that!"
"Let me resist, then," said Rowland. "Go home as you are now? I can't
stand by and see it."
It may have been true that Roderick had lost his sense of humor, but he
scratched his head with a gesture that was almost comical in its effect.
"You are a queer fellow! I should think I would disgust you horribly."
"Stay another year," Rowland simply said.
"Doing nothing?"
"You shall do something. I am responsible for your doing something."
"To whom are you responsible?"
Rowland, before replying, glanced at Miss Garland, and his glance made
her speak quickly.
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