“Should you like to know Jane? She’s a good sort.”
“I should like to know her.”
“Look here! I’ll tell her to come and call on you. Do the social thing. Pity you can’t join us all for Christmas. We’d soon make you feel at home.”
His eyes were a trifle apologetic, but very kind, and his kindness touched her. He was quite sincere in what he said, and she discovered a new sensitiveness in him.
“It’s good of you to think of such a thing. One finds life rather lonely at times. Croydon is a long way off, but perhaps your sister will come and see me some day.”
He began to talk very fast of a sudden.
“Oh, you’d like Jane, and she’d like you, and the youngsters are jolly kids, and not a bit spoilt. We must fix up the social business. I’m a fool of a bachelor. I was made to be married, but somehow I haven’t. Funny thing, life! One gets in a groove, and it takes something big to get one out again.”
He laughed, and wished her good morning rather abruptly, explaining that he was going down to the City by train.
Eve had felt touched, amused, and a little puzzled. She thought what an excellent uncle he must make with the round, Christmas face, and the Tate’s sugar-box full of presents. And on Christmas morning she found a parcel from him lying on the breakfast table.
He had sent her a big box of chocolates and two new novels, and had written a note. It was a rather clumsy and apologetic note, but it pleased her.