Part 19 (1/2)

”You will like her,” I said. ”She is a charming girl-so sensible, and good, and unselfish, and-”

”Who told you all this about her?” interrupted Ethelbertha.

”You can see it for yourself,” I answered. ”The mother appears to be a nonent.i.ty, and St. Leonard himself-well, he is not a business man. It is Janie who manages everything-keeps everything going.”

”What is she like?” asked Ethelbertha.

”I am telling you,” I said. ”She is so practical, and yet at the same time-”

”In appearance, I mean,” explained Ethelbertha.

”How you women,” I said, ”do worry about mere looks! What does it matter? If you want to know, it is that sort of face that grows upon you. At first you do not notice how beautiful it is, but when you come to look into it-”

”And has she also formed a high opinion of d.i.c.k?” interrupted Ethelbertha.

”She will be disappointed in him,” I said, ”if he does not work hard and stick to it. They will all be disappointed in him.”

”What's it got to do with them?” demanded Ethelbertha.

”I'm not thinking about them,” I said. ”What I look at is-”

”I don't like her,” said Ethelbertha. ”I don't like any of them.”

”But-” She didn't seem to be listening.

”I know that cla.s.s of man,” she said; ”and the wife appears, if anything, to be worse. As for the girl-”

”When you come to know them-” I said.

She said she didn't want to know them. She wanted to go down on Monday, early.

I got her to see-it took some little time-the disadvantages of this. We should only be adding to Robina's troubles; and change of plan now would unsettle d.i.c.k's mind.

”He has promised to write me,” I said, ”and tell me the result of his first day's experience. Let us wait and hear what he says.”

She said that whatever could have possessed her to let me take those poor unfortunate children away from her, and muddle up everything without her, was a mystery to herself. She hoped that, at least, I had done nothing irrevocable in the case of Veronica.

”Veronica,” I said, ”is really wishful, I think, to improve. I have bought her a donkey.”

”A what?” exclaimed Ethelbertha.

”A donkey,” I repeated. ”The child took a fancy to it, and we all agreed it might help to steady her-give her a sense of responsibility.”

”I somehow felt you hadn't overlooked Veronica,” said Ethelbertha.

I thought it best to change the conversation. She seemed in a fretful mood.

CHAPTER VIII