"And so I propose, as soon as the youngster's old enough to travel, to haul down the flag for good and all, and book passages for the three of us in some smart clipper. We'll live in the country, love. Think of it, Polly! A little gabled, red-roofed house at the foot of some Sussex down, with fruit trees and a high hedge round it, and only the oast-houses peeping over. Doesn't it make your mouth water, my dear?"
He had risen in his eagerness, and stood with his back to the stove, his legs apart. And Polly nodded and smiled up at him—though, truth to tell, the picture he drew did not mean much to her: she had never been in Sussex, nor did she know what an oast-house was. A night such as this, with flying clouds and a shrill, piping wind, made her think of angry seas and a dark ship's cabin, in which she lay deathly sick. But it was not Polly's way to dwell on disagreeables: her mind glanced off to a pleasanter theme.
"Have you ever thought, Richard, how strange it will seem when there ARE three of us? You and I will never be quite alone together again. Oh, I do hope he will be a good baby and not cry much. It will worry you if he does—like Hempel's cough. And then you won't love him properly."
"I shall love it because it is yours, my darling. And the baby of such a dear little mother is sure to be good."
"Oh, babies will be babies, you know!" said Polly, with a new air of wisdom which sat delightfully on her.
Mahony pinched her cheek. "Mrs. Mahony, you're shirking my question. Tell me now, should you not be pleased to get back to England?"
"I'll go wherever you go, Richard," said Polly staunchly. "Always. And of course I should like to see mother—I mean my real mother—again. But then Ned's here ... and John, and Sarah. I should be very sorry to leave them. I don't think any of them will ever go home now."
"They may be here, but they don't trouble YOU often, my dear," said Mahony, with more than a hint of impatience. "Especially Ned the well-beloved, who lives not a mile from your door."
"I know he doesn't often come to see us, Richard. But he's only a boy; and has to work so hard. You see it's like this. If Ned should get into any trouble, I'm here to look after him; and I know that makes mother's mind easier—Ned was always her favourite."
"And an extraordinary thing, too! I believe it's the boy's good looks that blind you women to his faults."