Page:The Lark - E Nesbit, 1922.djvu/66



then with the most graceful self-possession, lying pale and interesting under the Paisley shawl, Jane told the master of Cedar Court all about it, Lucilla uttering timid confirmatory noises.

"So you see," Jane wound up, "if we'd had the least idea that you were—at all like you are, we should have come and asked you. . . ."

"Butter," said the old gentleman shortly.

"It's the best butter," quoted Jane. "I mean that it's quite true; and I wish we had asked you."

"You mean to tell me, then," he said, looking very straight at her, "that you crept into that house and explored it by candlelight merely because you thought it a suitable residence for two young ladies who wish to sell flowers?"

"Well," said Jane handsomely, "of course there were other reasons, but I've given you the best ones. The others aren't so respectable. Of course there was curiosity, and the-soul-of-romance feeling that there is about old houses; and . . . and . . . well, I suppose the sort of idea that we weren't going to let a silly old board keep us out if we wanted to get in."

"I admire your candour," said the visitor, and he quite evidently did; "but suppose the house had been locked up for some really romantic reason—because someone had lived there so dear that no one else was good enough to live there after her?"

"We never would have," said Jane indignantly. "Of course we wouldn't. You see, we knew it was only temper . . . distemper, I mean. . . . I mean paint. . ."