Part 16 (2/2)

”They know perfectly well that I want only what is just and right to the shareholders. They expect their pay to the last penny, but when I insist on a proper return for it they look at me as if they'd like to knock me on the head. It's disheartening work. I've been tempted at times to throw it all up and go back to England”--at which Nance's heart gave so unusual a little kick that she had difficulty in frowning it into quietude, and just then Bernel came in with his gun and a couple of rabbits.

”Who's going to England?” he asked. ”I'll go too.”

”No you won't,” said Nance sharply. ”We want you here.”

”It's as dull as Beauregard pond and as dirty, since the m--aw--um!”

with a deprecatory glance at Gard.

”You'd find most busy places just as dirty,” said Gard.

”Then I'll go to sea. That's clean at all events.”

”Let's hope things will brighten a bit. You wouldn't find the fo'c'sle of a trader as comfortable as La Closerie, my boy,”--and they fell to on their dinner and left the matter there.

”Dites-donc, Nannon, ma pet.i.te,” said Mrs. Tom to Nance, a day or two later, ”who is the joli gars who comes each day to see you?”

”Mr. Gard from the mines comes up here to get his dinner, if that's what you mean.”

”Oh--ho! He comes for his dinner, does he? And is that all he comes for, little Miss Modesty?”

”That's all,” said Nance solemnly.

”Oh yes, without a doubt, that's all. I think I'll ask him next time I see him. Why doesn't he go home for his dinner like other people?”

”He's living at Plaisance now and it's far to go. He used to live here, you know.”

”Ma foi, no, I didn't know. He used to live here? And why did he go to Plaisance then?”

”We hadn't room for him, you see.”

”But, Mon Dieu, we have room and to spare! There are those two bedrooms empty. Why shouldn't he--”

But Nance shook her head at that.

”Why then?” demanded Mrs. Tom, with visions of some one besides Tom to talk to of an evening--a good-looking, sensible one too. ”Why?”

”He and Tom don't get on well together--”

”Pardi, I'm not surprised at that. It would need an angel out of heaven to get on with him sometimes. What induced me ever to marry such a grumbler I don't know. I wonder if Monsieur What-is-it?--Gard--would come back if I could arrange it?”

But Nance shook her head again.

”Ah--ha, ma garche, and you would sooner he did not--is it not so?”

”I'm quite sure he and Tom would never get on together, and I don't think Mr. Gard would come.”

”It's worth trying, however. He would be some one to talk to of an evening any way.”

<script>