but they knew that no laughter could have followed that cry—the cry wrung from him by an overpowering emotion: "My God!"
Lucilla's eyes signalled to Jane.
"This is your doing," they said. "You have blundered us all into this. Now get us out of it. Say something. Do something. It's your business, not mine."
"All right, I will," Jane's eyes signalled back defiantly. With the least little shrug of the shoulders she rose and went and stood beside Mr. Dix.
"Don't," she said; "please, please don't! We didn't know. We don't know anything, really. We're only silly schoolgirls. Do try to forgive us, won't you?"
At that he screwed his knuckles into his eyes like a school-boy, pushed his chair back and stood up.
"Forgive you?" he said. "You must forgive me for behaving like a baby—but no, there's no excuse for me—but it came on me so suddenly. That you should have believed that I was a criminal and yet treated me as you have done—why—you must have believed that, even when you first asked me to come and see you and to be your gardener! That you should have thought that, and yet been so good to me! Why, I didn't believe there was so much goodness in the world. That sort of thing is enough to bowl a man over. Forgive me for having made such an ass of myself—and"
"Oh, stop!" said Jane in fluttered distress. "It's nothing. I mean it's most awful for us, don't you see—to have thought . . . Oh, don't let's say any more about anything. You're tired out, and no wonder—and so are we. Let's shake hands and be friends and not talk any more nonsense. Look here—we must get home. It must be about a thousand o'clock. Now you aren't going to be silly about this; here's some money—part of the wages, you know." She pressed two notes on him, rejoicing that she happened to have them with her, "Yes, yes, yes, yes! You'll want breakfast to-morrow, and you'll want boots. I hope that's enough, because it's all we've got with, us, and you can stay
