Courage gave one glance toward Harry, and then sat gazing straight at Brevet with a look on her face as though endeavouring to frame some sort of answer; while Brevet, with appeal in his eyes more eloquent than words, waited in solemn silence for her answer.
“But, Brevet,” she said, at last, “are you sure, perfectly sure that your Uncle Harry would not mind?”
“Perfectly sure!” but not so much as looking toward Harry, so completely did he regard the matter as resting wholly between Courage and himself.
“Well, then, Brevet, I believe I could.”
Then for the first time Brevet showed an inclination to include Harry in the conversation, but for that matter he had to, for Harry was close beside Courage now. “There,” he said, with a great sigh of relief, “what did I tell you? Perhaps she doesn’t care enough to do it for you, but she cares enough to do it for us all three together.”
“Run, Brevet!” said Courage. “See, there is Mary coming with the mail. Run, and bring it quickly.”
Brevet scampered off in high feather, and Courage instantly straightened herself up and looked accusingly at Harry.
“Do you mean to say that you actually talked all this over with Brevet?”
