"I should say not at all," he answered. He disliked the old lady, and enjoyed baiting her. Great stout old hen, she had played cock-o'-the-walk long enough.
"How many children have you got out there?" she suddenly asked, rudely.
"We have only the twins of my own," he answered. "But of course there is Jane."
"Jane! Jane! Which is Jane?"
"Jane is Easu's child. Monica's first."
Everybody started. It was as if a bomb had been dropped in the room. Miss Blessington coloured to the roots of her fleecy brown hair. Mary studied her fingers, and Aunt Matilda sat in a Queen Victoria statue pose, outraged.
"What is she like?" asked Mary softly, looking up.
"Who, Jane? She's a funny little urchin. I'm fond of her. I believe she'd always stand by me."
Mary looked at him. It was a curious thing to say.
"Is that how you think of people—whether they would always stand by you or not?" she asked softly.