"Julia," he said, bringing in the astonishing news, "there is a motor-car outside!"
"Yes," Julia answered composedly; "but it is going away soon."
"Not very soon," another voice spoke out of the gloom of the chimney corner, and Johnny jumped as he recognised it.
"Dear me!" he said; "dear me! Mr. Rawson-Clew! How do you do? I am pleased to see you."
The motor did not go away very soon; it stayed quite as long, rather longer, in fact, than Mr. Gillat expected. And when it did go, he did not have the pleasure of seeing it start; he somehow got shut in the kitchen while Julia went out to the gate.
When she came back she shut the door carefully, then turned to him, and he noticed how her eyes were shining. "Johnny," she said, "I am a selfish beast; I am going to leave you. Not yet, oh, not yet, but one day."
Johnny stared a moment, then said, "Of course, oh, of course, to be sure—to live with your mother, she'll want you. A wonderful woman."
"Not to live with my mother," Julia said emphatically. "Sit down and I will tell you all about it."
And she told, slowly and suitably, fearing that he would hardly understand the wonderful goodness of fate to her. But she need not have been afraid; he took her meaning at once, far quicker than she expected, for he saw no wonder in it, only a very great goodness for the man who had won her, and a great and radiant happiness for himself in the happiness that had come to her. As for his loneliness, he never thought of that, why should he? Of course she would leave him, it was the right and proper thing to do; she would leave him anyhow.
"You couldn't go on living with me here," he said; "I mean, I couldn't go on living with you; it wouldn't be the thing, you know; you must think of that."