At almost every house in Laburnum Grove a maid, in pink or lilac print, with pail and floor-cloth, was giving the steps their matutinal wash. One was polishing the knocker, the bell-handles, and the brass plate of the doctor's abode.
"And here am I, as large as life, a-ridin' on a 'bus the first thing in the morning!" enlarged Million, clenching her fists and sitting bolt upright. "At half-past nine o'clock, if you please—first time I've ever done such a thing! I've often wondered what it was like, top of a 'bus on a fine summer's morning! I'll know now!"
"You won't ever have to know again," I laughed as I sat there beside her. "You won't be going in any more 'buses or trams or tubes."
"Why ever not, miss?" asked Million, startled.
"Why! Because you'll have your own car to go about in directly, of course," I explained. "Probably two or three cars——"
"Cars?" echoed Million, staring at me.
"Why, of course. Don't you see there's a new life beginning for you now? A Rolls-Royce instead of a motor-'bus, and everything on the same scale. You'll have to think in sovereigns now, Million, where you've always thought in pennies——"
"What? Three pounds for a thrupenny ride to the Bank, d'you mean, miss?" cried Million, with a little shriek. "Oh, my godfathers!"
At that excited little squeal of hers another passenger on the 'bus had turned to glance at her across the gangway.
I met his eyes; the clear, blue, boyish eyes of the young man from next door.