'Say that to her, dear Lady Myrtle,' Jacinth replied. 'Nothing could touch her more. And I am sure she will love to come here, at any rate for a while, at first. You see she speaks of living at Thetford till papa comes—of having a little house there and us with her. There would not be room in Aunt Alison's house, and besides, I think mamma would like to feel more independent with us three.'
Jacinth sat down on a stool at Lady Myrtle's feet and looked up in her face.
'Of course. I would not at all advise her living in Market Square Place, even if there were room,' said Lady Myrtle. 'In a small house, and with your aunt being accustomed to be the authority—no, it would not do. But there would be no such difficulties here. Your mother must come to me first, and you three must be here, too, to meet her. And then, later on, if she thinks it better to take a little house—well, I shall not oppose her. I am not an unreasonable old woman, am I, my child?'
'No, indeed,' said Jacinth warmly. 'And'—with a little smile—'I know mamma is very sensible. I can tell it by her letters, and even by what I remember of her. She is eager and hearty—sometimes Francie reminds me of her—but she is never fanciful or obstinate. It sounds impertinent of me talking like that of her, but I think you will understand. And I am sure you and mamma will suit each other.'
'I am sure we shall, dear, though, in a sense, you will always seem the most of your grandmother to me, Jacinth. You see my most vivid memory of her is about your age; it is really as if she had come back to me, sometimes.'
'I do so love you to say that,' said Jacinth.
'But I want to speak of all your mother writes,' the old lady went on. 'I—there can be no harm in my talking to you quite frankly, for I see your mother confides in you, and she is quite right to do so. Jacinth—I don't like the idea of that post, whatever it is, at Barmettle.'
Jacinth drew a deep breath of relief.