Part 28 (1/2)
”Well,” Miriam remarked, ”it will be a very interesting affair to watch.”
”Confound your impudence!”
”You're sure to have heaps of children,” she warned him.
”Hope so.”
”You'll forget how many there are, and mix them up with the dogs and the cats and the geese. They'll be very dirty.”
”And perfectly happy.”
”Oh, yes. Now Helen's will always be clean little prigs who couldn't be naughty if they tried. I shall like yours best, John, though they won't be clean enough to kiss.”
”Shut up!” he said.
”I shall be a lovely aunt. I shall come from London Town with a cornucopia of presents. We're beginning to go,” she went on. ”First John, and then me, as soon as I am twenty-one.”
”But Rupert will be here,” Helen said quickly.
”He'll marry, too, and you'll be left with Notya. Somebody will have to look after her old age. And as you've always been so fond of her--!”
”There would be the moor,” Helen said, answering all her unspoken thoughts.
”It wouldn't comfort me!”
”Don't worry, my dear,” John said kindly; ”the G.o.ds are surely tender with the good.”
”But she won't grow old,” Helen said earnestly. ”I don't believe she could grow old. It would be terrible.” And it was of Mildred Caniper and not of herself she thought.
CHAPTER XV
Mildred Caniper was wearing her deaf expression when they went into the house, and getting supper ready as a form of reproof. John was another of her failures. He had chosen work she despised for him, and now, though it was impossible to despise Lily Brent, it was impossible not to disapprove of such a marriage for a Caniper. But when she was helpless, Mrs. Caniper had learnt to preserve her pride in suavity, and as they sat down to supper she remarked that she would call on Lily Brent tomorrow.
”How funny!” Helen said at once.
Miriam darted a look meant to warn Helen that Notya was in no mood for controversy, and John frowned in readiness to take offence.
”Why funny?” he growled.
”I was just wondering if Notya would put on a hat and gloves to do it.”
She turned to Mildred Caniper. ”Will you?”
”I'm afraid I have not considered such a detail.”
”None of us,” Helen went on blandly, ”has ever put on a hat to go to the farm. I should hate any of us to do it. Notya, you can't.”
”You forget,” Mildred Caniper said in her coldest tones, ”that I have not been accustomed to going there.”
”Well, do notice Lily's primroses,” Helen said pleasantly. ”They're like suns.h.i.+ne, and she's like--”