"What a rotter the fellow is! I'm rather sorry for that young woman--but what _does_ she see in him?" He turned it over in his mind.
"Silly fools, girls," he said. He spoke the verdict out aloud, with the conscious superiority of a man in the making.
McTaggart's smiling face, bronzed and handsome, met his eyes.
"May I come in?--I just called round to ask how Mrs. Uniacke was."
"_Rather_! My hat!--it's jolly fine to see you back," he danced on the steps. "I say--we'll have to go quiet----" (the boy remembered)--"Mother's asleep."
They stole through the dingy hall and into the dining-room beyond. McTaggart glanced round with a smile at the bare, familiar place.
"You've grown, Roddy. Where's Jill? Hope she can spare me a minute. I suppose she's busy nursing your Mother?"
"Yes." Roddy's smile faded--"she's getting done up, I'm afraid. Sitting up all night, you know. The Mater can't be left alone."
"As bad as that? I'm awfully grieved. Poor old Jill!--and it's rough on you ... Never mind--we must cheer her up. Do tell her that I'm here."
"I'll go now." Roddy paused--"Look here, Peter, I shan't let on that it's you--what a lark! Won't it be a surprise for her." He was off, his eyes shining with fun.
He found Jill in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, her face flushed, leaning over the hot fire, patiently skimming mutton broth.
"You'll have to leave that for a minute. There's someone called and wants to see you. On business, I think," he choked back a laugh.
"Sorry--but I'm no earthly use. Hurry up, there's a good girl."
Jill, with an impatient sigh, pushed the soup to the side of the stove.
"It won't hurt to simmer there." She wiped her hands on a cloth and with her rounded arms bare, an apron over her drill skirt, followed Roddy up the stairs, a frown on her pretty face.
After the gloom of the basement the light dazed her for a second as she walked into the dining-room and saw a tall man standing there.
At Peter's voice she gave a sadden breathless cry. She caught at the back of a chair and swayed...
His arm went out, supporting her. "I'm awfully sorry." He felt her stiffen. For Jill had recovered herself.
"You made me jump--How are you, Peter?" She forced a shaky little laugh. "I'm all right--it's nothing ... really." She drew back, her face red--"it's the hot kitchen. I'm rather tired--but awfully glad to see you again."