"I opened it—why, of course I did. It's from Ninian."
Mrs. Bett held out the opened envelope, the unfolded letter, and a yellowed newspaper clipping.
"See," said the old woman, "says, 'Corie Waters, music hall singer—married last night to Ninian Deacon—' Say, Lulie, that must be her...."
Lulu threw out her hands.
"There!" she cried triumphantly. "He was married to her, just like he said!"
The Plows were at breakfast next morning when Lulu came in casually at the side-door. Yes, she said, she had had breakfast. She merely wanted to see them about something. Then she said nothing, but sat looking with a troubled frown at Jenny. Jenny's hair was about her neck, like the hair of a little girl, a south window poured light upon her, the fruit and honey upon the table seemed her only possible food.
"You look troubled, Lulu," Mrs. Plow said. "Is it about getting work?"
"No," said Lulu, "no. I've been places to ask—quite a lot of places. I guess the bakery is going to let me make cake."
"I knew it would come to you," Mrs. Plow said, and Lulu thought that this was a strange way to speak, when she herself had gone after the cakes. But she kept on looking about the room. It was so bright and quiet. As she came in, Mr. Plow had been reading from a book. Dwight never read from a book at table.