Mrs. Stubbs came in, hoped he had everything to his liking, and stayed for a cosy little chat. The shells were brought back by a great-uncle who had taken to the sea. The cow and the lustre cup and saucer had come down from her great-grandmother. “And I don’t hold with all this throwing out and putting in a lot of silly rubbish. New it may be, and the fashion it may be, but I don’t hold with it. When the young people come in they can do as they choose, and I suppose when I’m in my grave I shan’t mind, not even about my granny’s yellow cow that she used to allow me to stroke Sundays for a very particular treat. Oh, well, every dog has his day, as the saying is, and no use troubling oneself that I can see. Makes your blood go sour, and then what are you like to live with! Better laugh as long as you can and hold your tongue when you can’t!”

He went up to Crewe House in the morning, and Rosamond let him in. He found Jenny bright-eyed, flushed, and very grown-up indeed.

“How do you do, Mr. Lester? You must have thought it very silly of me yesterday to mistake you for a doctor, because of course you are not in the least like one. Rosamond has told me about your coming down from Pethertons, and she says I mustn’t expect you to publish anything. But then I never did- not really. Only you will talk to me about it, won’t you, and not just say it’s no use and I must wait till I’m older. You don’t know what a curse it is being young and have everybody say you can’t do any of the things you want to do because of it.”

He said,

“I shan’t do that, because there’s quite a lot you can do now, and I’d like to talk to you about it very much.”

Her hands were at her breast, painfully clasped. The brilliant eyes answered. Rosamond, leaning over to lay a hand on her shoulder, was vehemently pushed away.