‘Yes, indeed I can. Father used to say——’
For a moment her voice quivered and her eyes filled with tears.
Smiling through them as the April sun gleams through the showers she went on:
‘You must taste my toad-in-the-hole. I’ll make one to-day, and you shall help me.’
‘I—I don’t think I can, dear,’ answered her husband, pulling his moustache doubtfully. ‘I’m an awful duffer with my hands, you know.’
‘Don’t be a goose. You shall go and buy the things.’
George had his hat on directly.
Bess gave him her reticule to take on his arm, and then told him to buy two neck chops and some flour and some eggs.
‘And be sure you see your change is right, you careless boy,’ she added, laughing.
George Heritage marching down the street with a reticule in his hand was a sight worth seeing. He felt as proud of his commission as if Her Majesty had made him a plenipotentiary. He wasn’t quite sure where you got the flour and the eggs, so he tried the butcher’s for the latter and the greengrocer’s for the former, but at last he got into the right shops.