“Jealous!” cried Jawn.
“I envy you only that final limerick, Jawn. I know it’s going to be a corker.”
“Mrs. Wells, I appeal to you as a woman of experience,” Jawn persisted. “Do you think I have a chance?”
Jerry did not wait to hear her mother’s opinion. Although her more sensible self told her that it was childish to take offence at anything so obviously good-natured, the blinding anger that seized her drove her out of hearing quickly. The thought of staying a moment longer frightened her. She knew that she was on the verge of breaking down and spilling out a surprising torrent of invective against poor unoffending Jawn. And that, she had sense enough left to know, would be fatal. It would be worse than making eyes!
But if she had stayed a moment or two longer she would have been shocked into frigidity. To the innocent jesting Walter contributed a serious note.
While Mrs. Wells was assuring them that she would play no favourites, an interruption of Richard’s had led Jawn to say:
“You keep out of this. I won’t have any interference from big handsome men with romantic blue eyes and perfect teeth. What you need is a woman like Mrs. Norris to let you down a peg daily, to remind you of your grovelling insignificance. Go to the widow, thou sluggard.”
“I’ve been,” laughed Richard; “we quarrel beautifully!”
“Splendid! A fine sign! True love guaranteed!”
“’S not so!” blurted Walter; “Jerry and him’s got it all f-fixed up.”