"Well, you see, Everett," Ann explained, "Horace and I have talked for a long time about doing some real charity work; so now we're going to try an experiment."
"These boys—"
Ann interrupted. "One of them is a girl."
Horace saw the change on Brimbecomb's face and said hurriedly:
"The girl had on her brother's clothes, that's all."
"Strange proceedings all the way through, though," snapped Everett.
He was showing himself in a new light, and Horace noted that the young lawyer's face bore sarcasm and unpleasant cynicism. He wondered that his gentle, obedient sister had gathered courage to stand against her lover's wishes; for Everett had expressed a decided objection to Ann's working for the squatter children. Suddenly he felt a twinge of dislike for the man before him, and his respect for Ann deepened. How many girls, he reasoned, would have the courage and desire thus to take in two suffering children? He rose quickly and left the room.
Everett took up the argument again with Miss Shellington:
"Ann, you're going very much against my wishes if you keep those children here."
"I'm sorry, Dear," she said simply; "but you know—"