"It's very silly of Gladys," said Lucilla, trying not to smile. "I'll speak to her."
But Jane laughed and said: "It's very funny, don't you think? But, dear Mrs. Doveton, why should it upset you?"
"It's not respectable, miss, that's why. I never see such a gell. Asks the postman what his young lady's name is, just to find out if he's got one, because, if not, here's Gladys all ready and willing."
"I suppose the postman can take care of himself," said Lucilla.
"Let's hope so, I'm sure," said Mrs. Doveton gloomily, beating the palm of her hand on the arm of her chair; "but there's them as can't. The girl's like a raging lion going to and fro seeking who she may walk out with."
"I thought it was Simmons," said Jane.
"So it was, and is, and ought to be," said Mrs. Doveton earnestly. "He's a sober, solid man that won't hurt to have his head turned for a week or two, but, once married, he'll be master. But meantime here's the gell going this way and that, and bursting out here, there and everywhere like a November cracker. And there's no knowing who'll be hurt before she's pinned down for good and the sauce knocked out of her."
"I don't suppose the postman" Lucilla began, but Mrs. Doveton went on unregarding.
"Young gells like her ought to be put in homes, or labelled 'Dangerous.' She doesn't stick at anything. She's been writing to my Herb. Yes, Miss Jane, well may you look! I thought it was his receipt from the Polytechnic and I opened it, little thinking. And it was to thank him ever so for the lovely chocs., and 'Friday evening, same time and place,' and 'So long, old dear,' and seventeen crosses in blue ink." Mrs. Doveton sobbed and dabbed her eyes with a blue-chequered duster.
"And I've got no hold over the girl. Herbert I can control, or could. But not Gladys, Nobody can. Show her a young man and she's off like a spider after a fly—or
