"You really are stupid, Marg," he said when Peter had gone.
"I admit it," I said ruefully, "and we haven't a brown thing in the house. Why couldn't you have said black while you were about it?"
And Dimbie didn't know why he hadn't said black. But it is sufficient for me to know that Peter is trying to be good, and that Amelia has ceased to throw saucepans about the house, as the noise was a little trying. Peter may yet go to heaven.
CHAPTER XXVII
A DISCUSSION ABOUT A WEDDING-GOWN
The discussion about Jane's wedding-gown began in that pleasant hour between tea and dinner on the soft edge of the dusk, when the refreshing influence of tea still pervades one, when the fire seems to burn its brightest, when the clock ticks its softest, when the little shadows begin to creep into the corners of the room, and the familiar furniture and ornaments become a soft, rounded blur.
Nanty had been persuaded into staying for a real long evening; and John had been persuaded, against his better judgment, into putting up his horses at the "Ring o' Bells," and was in the kitchen saying pleasant and pacifying things to Amelia, no doubt.
"We shall be held up by highwaymen. John will be gagged and thrown into a ditch, and my pockets will be rifled and my jewellery stolen."
Nanty said this resignedly, nay almost cheerfully, as though a change from the ordinary routine of life would not be unacceptable to her. And mother gazed at her in fearful admiration. Heroism in any form appeals strongly to mother, though she herself is the bravest of the brave. To have lived with Peter for twenty-five years denotes some courage.