"That the new mistress has a little son of her own?"
"Not I, indeed. His father hasn't thought it worth while to mention the subject to him, and why should I? They are coming home to-morrow, as you know, and intend bringing her child with them. He has been staying with his mother's friends. Oh! we shall have fine changes at Afton Hall! But I'll see that Master Theodore's nose isn't put out of joint! The precious lamb!"
"Now, Jane, don't you try to set Master Theodore against the new mistress, there's a good soul. It may all turn out for the best; maybe it's the Lord's doing."
"Set him against the new mistress!" cried Jane, indignantly. "As if I'd dream of doing such a thing! Well, John Bawdon, you must have a mean opinion of me, indeed!"
"No, I haven't, Jane. But I know how you love the little master, and how you loved his mother; and I think maybe it seems hard to see another in her place. Well, well, I can't say I haven't felt like that too. You're afraid Master Theodore will be worse off than ever now, I suppose?"
The woman nodded, and answered angrily with flashing eyes: "His father don't care for him as he ought, though he is his heir, and such a fine, handsome, little lad. And now, with this strange woman and her child here, he'll care less!"
"No, no! The children will be friends, you'll see; they're near of an age, I hear. It may be the best thing for Master Theodore, his father marrying again."
"Well, John, you always try to look on the bright side of everything; I'll say that much in your favour," Jane remarked, a pleasant smile chasing the gloom from her face.
"It's the Christian way to look at things, at any rate," the old man responded, gravely.
"So it is; you're right, so it is. Hope is a Christian virtue, they say. Come, Master Theodore, come, my dear, it's near dinner-time, and you must come in."