“She did,” said Glyn quietly.
“What! My Emily told you that?” cried the man. “In them same words?”
“No; she never spoke to me in my life,” replied Glyn. “Singh and I were going down the garden one day, down one path, and she’d been to get some parsley, while you were carrying in one of the garden chairs, and she looked at you. That was enough, and we two laughed about it afterwards. So you see we know.”
“Well, I always did say as you was two sharp uns, sir,” said the man. And then confidentially, “Yes, sir, that’s right. We have been thinking about it for the last five years, and we’d like it to come off at any time. For, you see, it’s just the same with us, sir, as it is with rich people—I mean, well-to-do people. It don’t do to get married until you see your way.”
“Till you can see your way?” said Singh, frowning. “What does he mean by that?”
“Oh, I’ll soon tell you, sir. Money enough to make a fair start. There’s plenty of hard work to do here with the Doctor and such a large family of you young gentlemen as he’s got; but he’s a very good master, kind-hearted and just, and if any of us is unwell there’s everything he could want, and plenty of rest. And one don’t like to give up a comfortable home and start one that’s worse. It’s money that’s in the way, sir. We have both been saving ever since we were engaged; but it takes a long time to make your saving much when you can only put away a few pounds apiece every year.”
“Oh, well, look here,” cried Glyn; “if you’ll promise not to get married while we are here at the school, I’ll give you—let’s see, what shall I say?—five pounds. I dare say father will give it to me.—Now, Singh, what will you do?”
“Just the same,” replied Singh.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” cried Wrench. “Come, I call that handsome; but you know,” he added laughingly, “I shouldn’t like to make any promises, for I don’t know what a certain lady would say. Thank you all the same, both of you. You’ve both been very pleasant gentlemen and very nice ever since you have been here. You neither of you ever called me a lazy beast and shied your boots at me because they wasn’t black enough, or called me a fool for not making your water hotter so as you could shave.”
“Why, who did then?” cried Glyn.