"Take her," Alard repeated numbly. "Where?"
"Anywhere she wants to go--to Earth or back to Erytheia, or any one of
the planets she chooses."
"Will she go with me?" Alard challenged. "You have to ask her; she has
the right--"
"Oh, I'll go with you, Alard," Lyddy interrupted joyfully. "I'd go with
anybody right now, but especially you."
"Even if you know I love you only as a sister?"
"That's better than nothing," Lyddy said. "Besides, you could change
your mind. I think you and me have a lot more in common than him and
me."
"I want to make sure there will always be someone to take care of her,
to watch over her," Mattern told his brother. "Funny, I wouldn't have
done what I did except for the sake of winning her, and now that I've
won her, I can't hold her because of what I did to get her. But she was
my dream and I want her to be cherished."
"That's noble of you, Len," Lyddy said. "I'll think of you often, and
I won't be mad at you." She got up and linked her arm in Alard's.
"You'll take good care of me, won't you, hon?"
But it was to his brother that Alard spoke. "I'll take good care of
her," he promised, his voice thick with an emotion that was one part
sentiment, one part resignation.
"Splendid," Mattern said. "I wouldn't want her to be cast adrift. She
knows so little of any of the worlds outside her own restricted sphere."
"Sure," Alard replied miserably, "I understand. I'll do my best."
Mattern got up and put out his hand and, after a little hesitation,
Alard took it.
"I hope in time you'll come to forgive me," Mattern said, "and that
your hatred will dwindle into dislike, perhaps even tolerance."
"Oh, I don't hate you any more," Alard assured him. "I guess, in
your way, you've had as much to put up with as I did." He frowned in
perplexity. "But why did it have to be me?"
"You'll change your mind about that, too," Mattern said comfortably.
"Lyddy is a very accomplished woman."