MISS PERRY insisted on conducting Jim and his mother to their lodgings, which were at a small cottage in Pen-y-Gros hamlet. She was afraid they might get lost in the wood. Jim’s mother took the trout within, while Jim conducted Miss Perry back to the gate of Pen-y-Gros Castle. It seemed that he was haunted with the fear that in the gloom she might take the wrong turning.
The Wargrave coat-of-arms was engraved on a stone pillar at the castle entrance. They leaned against it. The evening shadows were fast blotting out Gwydr and his brethren.
“Goose Girl,” said Jim, mournfully, “we are in pretty deep water, you and I, aren’t we?”
“It will be all right, Jim,” said Miss Perry, cheerfully. “You are sure to get rich painting all these pictures. It is a splendid idea to paint Muffin. Her picture will be worth a lot of money. And I am sure, when you are rich, Aunt Caroline will let me marry you.”
Jim shook his head sorrowfully.
“Chaps don’t often get rich at my trade,” said he; “and when they do, they don’t do it all at once. Now suppose, Goose Girl, I did not get rich. Suppose I was only just able to rub along just as I do now, what would you say then?”
“I should like it all the better,” said Miss Perry, with conviction, “because then I shouldn’t have to have a maid. A maid loses her temper, you know, if you put things in your hat, or you get much mud on your frock, or you get up too early.”
“But don’t you see, you Goose,” said Jim, “that you have such grand prospects, and that it would be such a great thing for the family if you married a swell.”
“Would it, Jim?” said Miss Perry, reluctantly.
“Of course it would, you Goose.”