Sunshine again on Mrs. Gray's face. "Tell me your news, Jim," she said eagerly.
"Tell me yours first," said the sly Jim.
"No, Jim; do tell me yours."
"Well," said Gray, "I've had a glorious piece of luck. It hasn't come just at once; but I've been saving it up till I was sure that there was no mistake. There's a new club starting, dear, and I've got the secretaryship—worth about sixty pounds a year. Think of that—another pound a week income! Isn't it grand?"
"Splendid, Jim!" breathed Mrs. Gray.
"Of course," said Gray, hurriedly, "there'll be a lot of work, and I shall often have to stay there late in the evening. But I don't mind that, so long as—so long as you have a little more money for yourself."
"Thank you, Jim dear; but I do hope you won't overwork yourself. But, I say, Jim, wait till I tell you my news; perhaps you won't need to work so hard, then. I've let the front room at last, Jim, and splendid terms—a pound a week, breakfast and meat tea, full board Sundays. Isn't that good?"
"Bravo!" cried Gray. "Why, I'm dashed if you haven't done as well as I have!"
"It's all settled," cried Mrs. Gray. "I only let it this morning, and the boxes came in this afternoon. Look!" She displayed two half-crowns in a plump little hand. "Deposit."
"You're a champion," said her husband. "We shall be so rich we sha'n't know what to do with the money. When does the old lady come in? Is she a widow?"