Jane nodded again, but hesitated before disclosing the maiden secret of another's breast. "'Tisn't that, Georgie wasn't crying 'cos we're leaving, 'xactly."
"Then why?" demanded her brother. He scrambled on to the wall of the pigsty, and sat moodily dropping bits of stone on the porker's back.
"You see," explained Jane, not without diffidence, "she's in love."
"What next!" gasped her outraged brother. "Who's she in love with?"
"Mr. Jakes."
Cornelius James could find no words applicable to the situation.
"But—but," he finally exclaimed, "even if she is, what's she got to cry about?"
Jane clambered up beside her brother. "Well, you see," she began, "it was that picnic."
"It was a jolly picnic," maintained the other.
"Yes, but Georgie counted on having Mr. Jakes all to herself on the way back."