Sarella laughed.
"A good girl, though, I'll be bound," she hinted amiably.
"She's never mentioned the contrary—in her letters."
"Oh, she writes! I'm glad she writes."
"Thank you, Miss Sarella. She writes most Christmasses. And she wrote lately, tho' it's not Christmas."
"Not ill, I hope?"
"Ill! She's an industrious girl with plenty o' sense ... but her aunt's dead, and she thinks o' taking a place in a boarding-house."
"Jack," said Sarella, after a brief but pregnant pause of consideration, "bring her up here."
Jack regarded her with a stare of undisguised amazement.
"Why not?" Sarella persisted. "It would be better for you."