After all she was only eight and twenty! Janet, with a sigh, looked back
to the days when she had been eight and twenty, a very happy, independent
young lady indeed, not long before she had met and married her quiet,
wool-gathering John, so losing her independence for ever.
"I suppose you haven't heard the great news," she exclaimed, forgetting
that Timmy was there.
"What news?" asked Betty.
She glanced at her step-mother. Surely Janet hadn't been crying? Janet
never cried. She had not cried since that terrible day when the news had
come of George's death.
"What news?" she asked again.
"Mr. Barton--I really can't call him Lionel yet--came over this afternoon
and--and--"
Timmy rushed forward in front of his mother, his little face all aglow:
"Oh, Mum! You don't mean to say that he's popped?" he cried.
"Timmy, don't be vulgar!" exclaimed Janet severely.
Betty began to laugh a little wildly. "How very, very strange that it
should have happened to-day--"
"I don't think it's strange at all," said Janet quietly. "The strange
thing is that it hasn't happened before! But there it is--they're engaged
now. He seems to have told her that he thought it wrong to make his offer
until he had saved L100.
Pages:
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373