“Yes, and if you do, Sarah needn’t go, need she?” exploded Jo. “That’s the loveliest part of it—we can keep Sarah to look after Mother.”
“By—Jove!” said John Weston, very slowly. His eyes met his wife’s with a passion of relief in them.
“But it’s too much to pay for a child,” she objected.
“They won’t pay less,” Jean said. “If they had to send him away with a governess it would cost them more. And they’re longing for him to come here. They’re counting on your not saying No.”
“I’m not going to say it,” said John Weston. “If you think you can stand another small boy about, dear—it will mean we can keep Sarah.”
Mrs. Weston had taken up her knitting, but there were tears falling on it, and she dropped three stitches. Suddenly the twins’ arms were round her.
“Oh, don’t cry, darling! We’re going to look after you, but we know we can’t do it as well as Sarah.”
“Was ever anyone so looked after?” Mrs. Weston smiled through her tears. “I don’t know why I’m crying, only you’re such darlings. Yes, we’ll have your boy, and we’ll keep Sarah——”
“And bless you both,” said John Weston, putting his arms round all his feminine belongings. “Billy, go and tell Sarah we want her. By the way, Jo, who is he?”
“Rex Forester—only you’re not to mind that.”