“Is your helper satisfactory?”
“She is magnificent—a host in herself. She can shake a bad boy on one side of the park, and slap another at the other side, at the same time. I think I’ll resign my curatorship in favour of her. She only gets half my pay now.”
“Why resign, Berty?”
“Well, I may have other things to do,” she said, evasively.
“You’re going to get married.”
“Not that I know of,” she said, calmly.
“Good-bye,” replied Roger; “come oftener to see us, and be sure to bring your embroidery.”
Berty gazed after him with a peculiar smile, as he swung quickly away, then she made her way to River Street.
At one of the many corners where lanes led down to wharves, a group of men stood talking with their hands in their pockets.
Berty stopped abruptly. Through the women in the street she knew what the chief topic of conversation among the wharf labourers just now happened to be.