“But—” she said.
“It’s the best sort of plum pudding there is,” he said. “I only wish I could have got a bigger one. You’ll like it, all right!”
She stood looking at the round tin in her hands.
“But I’m afraid,” she said, “it—it must be a mistake. You see, it says—” She looked up at him, and her eyes filled with tears. It was too pathetic! His head bandaged, his plans destroyed, his home in ruins, and now this! “It says ‘corned beef’!” she faltered.
Then she could bear no more. Taking the corned beef, she ran into the kitchen, and began to cry there.
Alan came after her. He put his arm about her shoulders, but, this being the second time, she did not seem to notice it very much.
“I am s-so s-sorry!” she wailed.
“Please don’t be!” he entreated. “Two-family houses are a mistake, anyhow. I’ve been staying late at the office, trying my hand at designing a house, for a change. I wish you’d look at the plans!”
“I think I’ll make some coffee,” said Bess, hastily, moving away. Then her glance fell again upon the tin of corned beef.
She looked at him, and their eyes met, and she began to laugh.