rkled with pleasure as she pointed to the heavy clusters of
dark-green pods, hanging amid leaves and scarlet bloom.

"Splendid crop!" exclaimed Will, with answering enthusiasm.

"Doesn't the scent do one good?" went on his sister. "When I come into
the garden on a morning like this, I have a feeling--oh, I can't
describe it to you--perhaps you wouldn't understand--"

"I know," said Will, nodding.

"It's as if nature were calling out to me, like a friend, to come and
admire and enjoy what she has done. I feel grateful for the things that
earth offers me."

Not often did Jane speak like this; as a rule she was anything but
effusive or poetical. But a peculiar animation shone in her looks this
morning, and sounded in her voice. Very soon the reason was manifest;
she began to speak of the Applegarth business, and declared her great
satisfaction with it.

"There'll be an end of mother's worry," she said, "and I can't tell you
how glad I shall be. It seems to me that women oughtn't to have to
think about money, and mother hates the name of it; she always has
done. Oh, what a blessing when it's all off our hands! We shouldn't
care, even if the new arrangement brought us less."

"And it is certain to bring you more," remarked Will, "perhaps
considerably more."

"Well, I shan't object to that; there are lots of uses for money; but
it doesn't matter."

Jane's sincerity was evident. She dismissed the matter, and her basket
being full of beans, seized a fork to dig potatoes.

"Here, let me do that," cried Will, interposing.

"You? Well then, as a very great favour."

"Of course I mean that. It's grand to turn up potatoes. What sort are
these?"

"Pink-eyed flukes," replied Jane, watching him with keen interest. "We
haven't touched them yet."

"Mealy, eh?"

"Balls of flour!"

Their voices joined in a cry of exultation, as the fork threw out even
a finer root than they had expected. When enough had been dug, they
strolled about, looking at other vegetables. Jane pointed to some Savoy
seedlings, which she was going to plant out to-day. Then there sounded
a joyous bark, and Pompey came bounding toward them.

"That means the milk-boy is here," said Jane. "Pompey always goes to
meet him in the morning. Come and drink a glass--warm."

CHAPTER 10

Back at Chelsea, Will sent a note to Norbert Franks, a line or two
without express reference to what had happened, asking him to come and
have a talk. Three days