Part 43 (1/2)

”I'll forgive you,” said Nancy, ”if you promise to love John. He is here, you know. But we wouldn't let anybody come to the station with us. We wanted you to ourselves.”

”Pets!” said Miss Bird affectionately.

”Ronald is here too, but I wouldn't let him come either,” said Joan.

”What is he like tell me about him,” said Miss Bird.

Joan cast a quick glance at Nancy, over the rather disordered bonnet.

It was the look that had meant in their childhood, ”Let's have her on.”

”He is most awfully _good_,” she said in rather an apologetic voice.

”Starling dear, I wanted to say something to you before you saw him.

You don't think--if you love anybody very much, and they are really good--it matters about their looks, do you?”

”Oh, but I consider him _most_ handsome,” said Miss Bird, ”my sister gave me that ill.u.s.trated paper with his photograph and yours in a full page to each I wrote and told you so and pleased and proud I was to have it and over my mantelpiece it is hanging now.”

”Yes, I know you wrote, darling, and it was very sweet of you. I couldn't bring myself to answer your letter. You know papers _will_ make mistakes sometimes.”

”What do you mean what mistake?” asked Miss Bird. ”It said plainly beneath the photographs 'The Earl of Inverell' and 'Miss Joan Clinton.'”

”Yes, I know it did, and it was me all right. Oh, Starling darling, can't you guess? Ronald is very good and very sweet, and I love him dearly; but----”

”But he is no beauty,” said Nancy. ”You can't expect us both to marry handsome men.”

”I shouldn't call him _scrubby_, exactly, should you, Nancy?” enquired Joan.

”Not to his face,” replied Nancy.

Joan gave a little gurgle, which she turned into a cough. ”Starling darling, you don't mind beards in a young man, do you?” she asked.

”Oh, you will get him to shave that off,” said Nancy, ”after you are married. I shouldn't worry about that. And I don't think a _very_ slight squint really matters. You can always call it a cast in the eye, and some people like it.”

”You see, Starling darling, I wanted you to be prepared,” said Joan.

”I couldn't let you see him without saying something first, when you thought he was that good-looking young man in the picture. He is much better, really, and his looks don't put _me_ off in the least. I don't think about them. But if I hadn't told you, you might have been so surprised that you would have said something that would have hurt his feelings.”

”As if I should or could,” exclaimed Miss Bird indignantly, ”there was no occasion to say a single word Joan and a good kind heart is _far_ better than good looks as I have often told you you do me a great injustice.”

”I knew she wouldn't really mind, Nancy,” said Joan. ”But I am glad to have warned her. She will get used to the beard.”

”And the cast in the eye,” added Nancy.

”Indeed,” said Miss Bird, ”I should never notice such things a beard is a sign of manly vigour your father has a beard.”

”Ah, but it isn't a beard like father's,” said Joan. ”It is more tufty and fluffy. I suppose you thought that young man in the picture _very_ handsome, didn't you, Starling darling?”