"No fear o' that!" he affirmed solemnly.
Next morning early they went together to the agent, derisively scornful of the gossips, who, to do them justice, refrained from unpleasant remarks. Laburnum Row knew by this time that young Joe Quinney had ten thousand pounds, and the rosy-fingered fact that he had found a wife in a semi-detached cottage was tremendously acclaimed.
The agent smiled discreetly when he saw them, and may have wished, poor fellow, that he, too, was young again and shamelessly in love.
"Bird-nestin', we are," said Quinney.
"Just so. Did you like the nest you saw yesterday?"
The sly fellow glanced at the girl, who answered eagerly, "It's too sweet for anything!"
Obviously, she wished to clinch the bargain on the nail, but, much to her exasperation, the more cautious male began to ask questions, listening attentively to the answers, and displaying a shrewd understanding. Susan decided that her Joe was wasting valuable time, because she wanted to discuss wallpapers. She sniffed when Quinney said, "Is there anything else on your books prettier than this cottage?" She shuffled impatiently, when the agent answered impassively, "Oh yes!" While the men had been talking she had decided that an ugly pigsty must be pulled down, that the kitchen must be refloored, and that the big water barrel should be painted apple-green and white.
"Where is this other cottage?"
"On the Mel, five minutes' walk from your place. It belongs to the widow of an artist, and it's a real bargain. You ought to see it."
"We will see it," said Quinney.