Page:The Lark - E Nesbit, 1922.djvu/160

Rh it unexpectedly difficult to say what she did mean. "But I do want to understand"

"Forgive me," said Rochester, "for interrupting you, but don't you think that what you really want—what we all want—is tea?"

"I'm sure Mr. Dix must want his," said Jane.

"You were saying," said Rochester, "before we began that tiring tramp through those disheartening rooms, you were saying that this was the birthday of your life. Will you boil the kettle?—and I will nip up on my bike and get a birthday cake, and let's have a birthday party. It needn't commit you to taking over Cedar Court if you don't want to. May I?"

"Oh, please do!" said Jane, with sudden heart-warming cordiality—"and perhaps when you come back we shall know whether we're dreaming or not"; and as he disappeared down the drive Lucilla said: "You'd have thought he'd have had the sense to tell us about the house and go. It would have been quite different if you and I had explored it alone. Why couldn't he see that?"

"Oh, people are like that," said Jane, fanning herself with a chestnut leaf; "if they bring you a box of chocolates they must stay to see you eat them. I daresay it's natural after all," she added, with an air of a woman of the world. "We mustn't be too hard on him."

"I believe," said Mr. Dix, stretching himself on the rough, newly-mown lawn, "that heaven will be exactly like this. Green leaves and grass—sun and shade. And tea. And cake. And ices."

For there had been ices, brought by Mr. Rochester in a basin in a cloth in a basket—ices not wholly melted before they could be eaten.

And strawberries," said Lucilla, finishing hers.

"And agreeable conversation and delightful company," said Jane. "I felt someone ought to say that, and why not me?"