"If it don't annoy you, my referring to England so often," said she
presently, "I will state that this reminds me of Kaysmere, the country
place of my father-in-law."
"Is your father-in-law living yet?"
"Dear me, yes--and still has hold of the title that I supposed I was
getting when I was married to his eldest son. My father-in-law is a
particularly healthy old gentleman of eighty. He was forty years old when
he married. He didn't expect to marry, you know--he couldn't see his way to
ever affording it. But he jumped into the title suddenly and then, of
course, he married right away. He had to. You'd know what a hurry he must
have been in to look at my mamma-in-law's portrait."
"Was she so very beautiful?"
"No; she was so very homely. Maude's very like her."
Jack laughed.
She laughed, too.
"Aren't we happy together?" she asked.
"My sky knows but one cloud," he rejoined, "and that is that Monday comes
after Sunday."
"But we shall meet again," said Mrs. Rosscott. "Because," she added
mischievously, "I don't suppose that it's on account of my cousin Maude
that you rebel at the approach of Monday."
"No," said Jack. "It may not be polite to say so to you, but I wasn't in
the least thinking of your cousin."
"Poor girl!" said Mrs. Rosscott thoughtfully; "and she was so sweet to
you, too. Mustn't it be terrible to have a face like that?"
"It must indeed," said Jack; "I can think of but one thing worse."
"What?"
"To marry a face like that.
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