Our guest thanked Jane for the cakes. Said she simply adored bear and tiger cookies, and as for gingerbread Johnnies she couldn't live without them. "It was so good of you to think of me," she told Jane.
"Not at all," replied Miss Gray. "I was as glad to make them as I am to have you with us. Two lone women in one house are bound to get stale. We need young sweet things about to keep us enthusiastic and poetical."
At this Zura's eyes sparkled, but the sincerity of Jane's welcome appealed to her better part and she suppressed a laugh.
My house possesses one small guest-room. Without mentioning it, I disposed of a few curios and with the proceeds I ransacked the shops for things suitable for girls. My morning had been spent in arranging my purchases. It was a very sweet moment to me when, after I had ushered in my guest, she stood for a second taking it all in; then putting out her hand she said, "It's like a picture and you are very kind."
Afterwards Jane Gray, looking like a trousered ghost in her outdoor sleeping garments, crept into my study and interrupted the work I was trying to make up.
"Oh, Miss Jenkins," she whispered mysteriously, "I've just thought it all out—a way to make everybody happy, I mean. Wouldn't it be truly splendid if dear Page Hanaford and Zura were to fall in love? It's a grand idea. She has the mares and anners of a duchess and so has he." Excitement invariably twisted Jane's tongue.
"For Heaven's sake, Jane, do you mean airs and manners?"
"Yes, that's what I said," went on Jane undisturbed. "And oh! can you think of anything more sweetly romantic?"
I laid down my pen and asked Miss Gray to look me straight in the eyes. Then I put the question to her: "Will you tell me what on earth romance, sweet or otherwise, has to do with a young fellow struggling not only with poverty, but with something that looks like mystery, and a wild, untamed, wilful girl?"