Crofton?"
She was taken aback, and yes, shocked, by the question: "Of course not.
Whatever put such an extraordinary idea into your head, Timmy?"
The words had hardly left her lips when the door opened, and the village
girl, who was staying on for two hours beyond her usual time because of
this visitor, announced in a breathless voice:--"Mrs. Crofton, ma'am."
Timmy saw at once that the visitor was the young lady he had seen walking
up the avenue. Then the old gentleman and his dog--the dog which was
so extraordinarily like Flick--had only brought her as far as the door.
And then, while his mother was shaking hands with Mrs. Crofton, and
shepherding her towards the sofa, Timmy managed to have a good, long look
at the new tenant of The Trellis House.
Grudgingly he admitted to himself that she was what most people--such
people, for instance, as Rosamund and Betty--would call "very pretty."
Mrs. Crofton had a small three-cornered face, a ridiculously little,
babyish mouth, and a great deal of dark, curly hair which matched in a
queer kind of way the color of her big, pathetic-looking eyes. Timmy
told himself at once that he did not like her--that she looked "a muff".
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73