"We are neighbours, then," she said, ignoring Eva's words. She was clearly a woman who would commit herself to no promise that she might not be able to keep.
"My father, Mr. Treherne, owns the farm close by. Jack is his little grandson," said Betty simply, "and I'm his only daughter."
"And my name is Kenyon. Come along, Eva; we'll leave all this alone until after tea, and when you're in bed I must straighten things a bit," said Mrs. Kenyon as Betty turned to go.
The voice was tired, and an English voice. The speaker, still young, for she certainly was well under thirty, inspired Betty with the feeling that she had had a hard fight with the world.
"Won't you come back to supper with us? I know mother will be glad to see you, and it's hard to get things comfortable on the first night in a new house."
"Comfortable!" echoed Mrs. Kenyon, with a note of scorn in her voice. "It will be days before we can be that. The house has been standing empty for a long time apparently, and needs soap and water in every corner of it. I should like to send it to the wash, but as that can't be done I must wash it myself, every inch of it. I took it because it was cheap!"
"Will you come, then," said Betty again.
"I beg your pardon. You'll think English manners defective, but I'm so tired I can hardly think of what I'm saying. No, there is so much to be done I think I will stay here, thanking you all the same for asking us." So Betty said no more, and taking Jack's hand walked quickly down the road. Jack chattered all the way about Eva.
"D'you think she'll be my chum, Aunt Betty?"
"We'll wait and see, Jackie, and don't be in too great a hurry. She'll want you all the more if you don't seem too keen to have her," answered Betty, smiling, giving the little boy his first lesson in worldly wisdom.