And upon this a gentle glow began to radiate throughout Mr. Parcher. A new feeling budded within his bosom; he was warmly attracted to Jane. She was evidently a child to be cherished, and particularly to be encouraged in the line of conduct she seemed to have adopted. He wished the Bullitt and Watson families each had a little girl like this. Still, if what she said of William proved true, much had been gained and life might be tolerable, after all.
“He'll come in the afternoons, I guess,” said Jane. “But you aren't home then, Mr. Parcher, except late like you were that day of the Sunday-school class. It was on account of what you said that day. I told mamma.”
“Told your mamma what?”
“What you said.”
Mr. Parcher's perplexity continued. “What about?”
“About Willie. YOU know!” Jane smiled fraternally.
“No, I don't.”
“It was when I was layin' in the liberry, that day of the Sunday-school class,” Jane told him. “You an' Mrs. Parcher was talkin' in there about Miss Pratt an' Willie an' everything.”
“Good heavens!” Mr. Parcher, summoning his memory, had placed the occasion and Jane together. “Did you HEAR all that?”
“Yes.” Jane nodded. “I told mamma all what you said.”