"Jove though!" Ferris stood stock still in his astonishment. "You're kidding, Joey?"
"Wish I may die," was the chaste rejoinder.
Ferris turned things rapidly over in his mind. "Did you go?" he asked at length.
"Go? I should think so. She is as well as ever she was in her life—laughing and talking, as different from the timid little crushed thing she was, as you are different from Gaunt! While she was away, he has had her own sitting-room all done up for her, and my word! he has done it in style. You never saw anything so classy; it's like the little boudoir at the Chase; and she says he never bought a thing, except the carpet and curtains. The furniture and china was all in the house, put away, and they've got enough left to furnish the dining-room as well. My, it'll be a nice place by the time she's done with it."
"Joey, I give you my word, that on Saturday she was in bed, delirious, and her mother sat up all night with her."
"That might be. Look how Bill's temperature runs up if he gets a bit of a chill! She was all right by Wednesday, and now she's as fit as a fiddle. Seems so keen about things too. Got a great idea of going over the mine. I thought we might have 'em both to lunch next week, and take them round after."
"Good idea. But have you forgotten that Rosenberg will be staying here?"
"Not me. That doesn't make a bit of difference. She was talking about him as easily as you might talk about me. Tell you what, Percy, you've got the wrong sow by the ear this time."
"If there's been a mistake, it was Rosenberg's, not mine," said Ferris. "You may bet on that. Seems to me he's about put himself in the cart."
"Why, how? What do you mean?"