"Of course he can't help being bald, poor man. But, Bertha, he came to see me one day at Mrs. Belknap's; I can never forgive him for that. Fancy his waiting in the kitchen, and being sent away—like a—like a butcher's boy! But that wasn't enough, even; he came back and persisted in talking to me on the kitchen porch. Do you know if it hadn't been for Buster interrupting, just as he did, I actually believe I should have—that is, I might have—and only think, Bertha, how horrible that would have been! No; he shouldn't have come. I shall always think so."
Miss Forbes stared meditatively at the girl for a long minute; then she burst into what Jane was disposed to regard as unreasoning laughter of the variety which was once sapiently characterized as "the crackling of thorns under a pot."
"I can't see," observed Jane, very grave and dignified, "why you should laugh. There was nothing to laugh about in what I said."
Miss Forbes instantly grew sober. "Heaven forfend that you should ever see, my dear child," she observed in a grandmotherly tone, "and far be it from me to attempt an explanation! Suppose we talk about clothes, instead. And—how will you ever go to work to metamorphose that late imperious mistress of yours into a fond sister-in-law?"
But Mrs. Belknap came to the front full of tears and handsome apologies and congratulations, all mixed up with embarrassed blushes and smiles, and wouldn't dear Jane forgive her, and in token thereof be married from her house?
Jane was inclined to be a trifle stiff with her prospective sister-in-law at first. Recent memories were far too poignant to admit of the new relationship with real cordiality. But she relented perceptibly when Master Belknap flung himself upon her with glad cries of joy.
"I yuve my Jane!" he cooed confidentially. "I'm doin' to div' oo my fwannel el'phunt an'—an' my wed bwocks, if 'oo won't cwi any more, Jane."
"You must call her Aunt Jane now, Buster," observed his uncle, who was watching the scene with an air of proud proprietorship.
"I yuve my Aunt Jane," amended the infant docilely. Then, eyeing his male relative with a searching gaze, "Have you dot any choc'late dwops, Uncle Jack?"
Jane laughed outright at this.