'Well, I think that we had better see what we can do to patch it up again, as it's really quite a nice commandment, and breaking it is apt to cause distressing situations. Sit down and have some breakfast and tell me why you are coveting your neighbour's house and if you want my men and maid servants, oxen and she asses, too?'
'Not your maidservant, anyway,' I said, and his eyes twinkled. He was so friendly and kind that I sat down, and over tea and toast, which he insisted I should have, I told him about Michael and of our passion for old houses, and Ross, and the Gidger, and indeed all about everything.
'Ah,' he said, 'so you love old houses. Well, I sympathise, but this one will not be to let until I am carried out feet first.'
'God forbid that I should ever have it, then,' I said, and got up to go, 'and it's dear of you not to have been offended.'
'Offended!' he laughed, as he said good-bye, 'I was never so entertained in all my life.'
When I got home I went up to tell Ross about it, and he remarked as I finished the tale,—
'Well, there's to be no more house-hunting on those lines, Meg; you might have been most frightfully insulted. It's all right as it's happened; Michael would be simply furious with me for letting you do it if he knew.'
'But I told you I was going to,' I expostulated.
'It never occurred to me that you meant it. Of course, I thought you were fooling, you little idiot.'
And Ross did one of his atrocious lightning changes. Instead of a ragging brother one was merely 'fighting' with there was a man whose 'Sorry, darling, but I mean you mustn't do it again' closed the discussion, for all that it was very gently said.