nd never loses her
interest in things ..."

"But you're _not_ rich," said Jock.

"No," said Jean ruefully. "Isn't it odd that no one ever leaves us a
legacy? But I needn't say that, for it would be much odder if anyone
did. I don't think there is a single human being in the world entitled
to leave us a penny piece. We are destitute of relations.... Oh, well, I
daresay we'll get on without a legacy, but for your comfort I'll read to
you about the sort of house we would have if some kind creature did
leave us one."

She dived for a copy of _Country Life_ that was lying on the sofa, and
turned to the advertisements of houses to let and sell.

"It is good of Mrs. Jowett letting us have this every week. It's a great
support to me. I wonder if anyone ever does buy these houses, or if they
are merely there to tantalize poor folk? Will this do? 'A finely
timbered sporting estate--seventeen bedrooms----'"

"Too small," said Jock from his cramped position on the raft.

"'A beautiful little property----' No. Oh, listen. 'A characteristic
Cotswold Tudor house'--doesn't that sound delicious? 'Mullioned windows.
Fine suite of reception-rooms, ballroom. Lovely garden, with
trout-stream intersecting'--heavenly. 'There are vineries, peach-houses,
greenhouses, and pits'--what do you do with pits?" "Keep bears in them,
of course," said Jock, and added vaguely--"bear baiting, you know."

"It isn't usual to keep bears," David pointed out.

"No, but if you _had_ them," Jock insisted, "you would want pits to keep
them in."

"Jock," said Jean, "you are like the White Knight when Alice told him it
wasn't likely that there would be any mice on the horse's back. 'Not
very likely, perhaps, but if they _do_ come I don't choose to have them
running all about.' But I agree with the White Knight, it's as well to
be provided for everything, so we'll keep the pits in case of bears."

"They had pits in the Bible," said Mhor dreamily, as he screwed and
unscrewed his steering-wheel, which was also the piano stool, "for
Joseph was put in one."

Jean turned over the leaves of the magazine, studying each pictured
house, gloating over details of beauty and of age, then she pushed it
away with a "Heigh-ho, but I wish we had a Tudor residence."

"I'll buy you one," David promised her, "when I'm Lord Chancellor."

"Thank you, David," said Jean.

By this time the raft had been sunk by a sudden storm, and Jock had
grasped the opportunity to go to h