"Yes; this week."
"That will make Amarilly so happy," she said, brightening. "I am going there to-morrow to take them some work, and I will tell Mrs. Jenkins to send Flamingus—his is the only name of the brood that my memory retains—for the church laundry."
"He may call at the rectory," replied John, "and get the house laundry as well."
"That will be good news for them. I shall enjoy watching Amarilly's face when she hears it."
"And now, Colette, will you do something for me?"
"Maybe. What is it?" she asked guardedly.
"Will you abandon the idea of going on the stage, or studying for that purpose?"
"Perforce. Father won't consent."
A look of relief drove the trouble from the dark eyes fixed on hers.
"I'll be twenty-one in a year, however," she added carelessly.