“I ain’t a bat, Martin.”
Again her brother laughed, this time with less embarrassment. It had suddenly become very easy to talk with Jane.
Welcoming her companionship and sympathy, he found himself pouring into her listening ear all his difficulties. He told her of Ellen’s will; of the wall; of Lucy’s flight; of his love for the girl. How good it was to speak and share his troubles with another!
“How like Lucy to go away!” mused Jane, when the recital was done. “Any self-respectin’ woman would have done the same, too. She warn’t goin’ to hang round here an’ make you marry her out of pity.”
“But I love her.”
“Yes, but how was she to know that?”
“She must have known it.”
“You never had told her so.”
“N—o, not in so many words.” 296
“Then what right, pray, had she to think so?” argued Jane with warmth. “She warn’t the sort of girl to chance it.”