"What a dear little thing she is!" he said.
"Who? Ivy? I think she's a regular little toad. How funny you are, Nigel!"
Half-an-hour later the three Furlongers were at breakfast. Nigel had always been subject to moods just like a girl, and sometimes his changes from heights to depths had been irritating. But to-day his brother and sister saw the advantages of such a nature. The two boys fooled together all through the meal, and Janet watched them, smiling. Nigel had found his tongue to some purpose. Strange to say, he was more than ready to talk of his prison experiences, though, as he had already hinted to Janey, he had two sets of these. One set, typified by his fumigated clothes, he seemed positively to revel in; the other set he never mentioned of his free will, though he obviously used to brood over them.
"Hullo! there's the postman!" cried Janet suddenly.
She rose to go to the door, but Nigel was nearest it, and sprang out before her.
"Morning, Winkworth!" he shouted hilariously. "I'm back again."
"Glad to see you, Mus' Furlonger," chuckled the postman. "You look in pretty heart."
"Never was better in my life," and waving a letter in his hand he swung back into the kitchen.
"A letter for Janey!—Janey's the lucky devil"—as he flung it across the table.