"It's so amusing," answered Bertha.
Mrs. Cross examined her daughter.
"I don't understand you," she exclaimed, in a tone of irritation. "I do not understand you, Bertha! All I can say is, behaviour more disgraceful I never—"
The poor lady's feelings were too much for her. She retreated to her bedroom, and there passed the greater part of the day. But in the evening curiosity overcame her sullenness. Having obtained as much information about the artist's marriage as Bertha could give her, she relieved herself in an acrimonious criticism of him and Miss Elvan.
"I never liked to say what I really thought of that girl," were her concluding words. "Now your eyes are opened. Of course you'll never see her again?"
"Why, mother?" asked Bertha. "I'm very glad she has married Mr. Franks. I always hoped she would, and felt pretty sure of it."
"And you mean to be friends with them both?"
"Why not?—But don't let us talk about that," Bertha added good-humouredly. "I should only vex you. There's something else I want to tell you, something you'll really be amused to hear."
"Your ideas of amusement, Bertha—"
"Yes, yes, but listen. It's about Mr. Jollyman. Who do you think Mr. Jollyman really is?"