And she assented quickly, hoping at the same time that now they would probably both win—or fail together.
When breakfast was finished, and while Aunt Janet went to put on her bead-trimmed bonnet, and elastic-sided boots, and brown cotton gloves, Glan showed the two children over the shop. It contained a most tempting array of sugared cakes and buns and pastries and bread—all of which Glan told them he made himself, in the bakehouse at the side of the shop. The shop was sweet and clean, like the rest of the house, and the sight of Glan, in his white cap and overall, standing behind the counter and beaming cheerfully around him was a sight to lighten the heart of anyone—except Glan’s father.
“It’s fortunate that your Father can look after the place while you are out,” remarked Molly. “But I thought you said he was taken back and given a place at Court, didn’t you? I thought that was why he wore a velvet robe and keys.”
“Quite right,” said Glan, “but it is only a very unimportant position. You see, he’s getting old—he only has to turn up at Court every Tuesday and Friday. It keeps him amused. On his free days he does all sorts of things to fill up his time.... Ah, here he comes,” he continued, as his Father shuffled into the shop. “Now, be very careful, Father, and look after everything nicely while we’re away, won’t you? And here—you’d better wear this or you’ll spoil that lovely velvet robe.”
And Glan whipped off his white apron and made his Father put it on. This, over his gorgeous velvet robe, gave him a comical appearance which was by no means lessened by the melancholy expression on his face. Glan gave a chuckle. With arms akimbo he surveyed his Father with his head on one side, then he chuckled again. Such an irresistible, infectious chuckle it was that Jack and Molly, despite their efforts not to, started to laugh. Glan went on chuckling and laughing, and once having started the three of them continued laughing and could not stop, until the tears came into their eyes, and Jack had a stitch in his side, and Aunt Janet appeared, all ready to start, to see what all the noise was about.
“Poor old Father ... it’s too bad to laugh ... but really ... really ...” and Glan dried his eyes on the sleeve of his white overall, and started to laugh again.
But Glan’s Father could see nothing to laugh at, and had continued dusting the scales slowly and methodically all the time.
“These jam puffs are two a penny, aren’t they?” he asked, quite unconscious of the figure he presented.
“Does your Father ever laugh?” Jack asked, as soon as they were outside the shop.
“Never to my knowledge,” said Aunt Janet, “and I’ve kept house for him these twenty years.”