Page:Anthony John (IA anthonyjohn00jero).pdf/157

 she has said all that she's got to say that there's nothing more to be said."

"You shall have your say another time," she promised him.

Anthony kept on the house in Bruton Square. It was larger than they wanted now the Tetteridges were gone, but he liked the old-fashioned square with its ancient rookery among the tall elms. He let the big classroom for an office to a young architect who had lately come to Millsborough. His aunt was delighted with the change. She had hated Mrs. Tetteridge, who had disapproved of her sitting on sunny afternoons on a Windsor chair outside the front door. It had always been her habit. And why what was harmless in Moor End Lane should be sinful in Bruton Square she could not understand. She was growing feeble. It was want of work according to her own idea, which was probably correct. As a consequence she was looking forward to heaven with less eagerness.

"I used to think it would be just lovely," she confessed to Anthony one day, "sitting about and doing nothing for ever and ever. It sounds ungrateful, but upon my word I'm not so sure that I'll enjoy it."

"Uncle did believe in God," said Anthony. "I