“I suppose so,” said Roland. “Come along, Dolly,” and they began to walk down the lane. At the corner they turned and saw the other two standing together—Betty, taller, confident and all-powerful; Brewster, looking up at her, scared and timid, his hands clasped behind him.
“He looks a bit shy, doesn’t he?” said Dolly.
Roland laughed.
“He won’t be for long, I expect.”
“Rather not. He’ll soon get used to her. Betty doesn’t let her boys stop shy with her for long. She makes them do as she wants them.”
And when they returned an hour later they saw the two sitting side by side chatting happily. But as soon as they reached them Brewster became silent and shy, and looked neither of them in the face.
“Had a good time?” asked Dolly.
“Ask him,” she answered.
And they laughed, all except Brewster, and made arrangements to meet again, only a little earlier the next week.
“Well,” said Roland, as soon as they were out of earshot, “and how did you enjoy yourself?”