"Five years ago, d'you mean—when it first happened?"
"You were only a boy—a very nice boy, Jamie. I always liked you. I don't approve of long engagements, and I thought you'd change your mind. Most young men are a little wild; it's right that they should be."
James looked at her, wondering suddenly whether she knew or divined anything. It was impossible, she was too silly.
"You're very wise."
"Oh, don't say that!" cried Mrs. Clibborn, with a positive groan. "It sounds so middle-aged.... I always thought Mary was too old for you. A woman should be ten years younger than her husband."
"Tell me all about it," insisted James.
"They wouldn't listen to me. They said you had better be engaged. They thought it would benefit your morals. I was very much against it. I think boys are so much nicer when they haven't got encumbrances—or morals."
At that moment Mary came in.
"I can't find your glasses, mamma."
"Oh, it doesn't matter," replied Mrs. Clibborn, smiling softly; "I've just remembered that I sent them into Tunbridge Wells yesterday to be mended."