“And Muffin always said she would just love to live at the Red House at Widdiford.”
“Goose Girl,” said Jim, “I am afraid you are deep. You want to marry Gobo.”
“Not r-r-really,” said Miss Perry, with wide-eyed earnestness. “Of course he is a dear, but—but of course, Jim, he is not like you are.”
“Thank you very much for the information. But tell me, Goose Girl, wouldn’t you like to be a duchess?”
“Oh no, Jim,” said Miss Perry.
“Why not, you Goose?”
“It sounds rather silly.”
“So it does, now you come to mention it,” said Jim. “But think of all the wonderful frocks and jewels you would have, and the wonderful houses, and the wonderful horses, and the wonderful ices of every conceivable color and every possible flavor. And as for cream buns, a duchess of course can have as many as she requires.”
“I would rather have the Red House at Widdiford,” said Miss Perry.
“Really,” said Jim, “you are the most tremendous thing in Geese. Just think what you could do if you were a duchess. You could buy old books and new vestments for your papa; Muffin could have a new mauve; the Polly Girl could marry her parson, and she could boast of her sister who married the duke; and the Milly Girl could think more about Persian kittens and less about self-improvement; and as for Dickie and Charley, they both might go to Sandhurst and probably become field-marshals.”