“Yes,” agreed Ronnie. “He said I was doing well in the office—I was pleased about that—but he knew it was more because I was so conscientious than because I was really interested in the work.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I enjoyed working for him . . . and it’s true,” declared Ronnie earnestly. “I enjoy working for him because I’m fond of him. So then he smiled and said that I ought to be interested in the work for its own sake.”
“But you aren’t?” suggested Elfrida.
“No . . . and I wasn’t going to tell him a lie. I just repeated that I enjoyed working for him. He said, ‘I know that, Ronnie. You’re a good boy!’”
“He’ll miss you terribly!”
“I’m afraid he’ll miss me a bit,” admitted Ronnie. “You see, I know his ways. I know what he likes and (even more important) I know what he doesn’t like; but it won’t be so bad if we can find a good man to take my place. We shall have to stay in London until I’m sure we’ve got the right sort of chap . . . and then I shall have to get him into Uncle Bob’s ways. It may take some time.”
“You’ll have to stay until you’re quite sure it’s going to be all right.”
“Yes. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course I don’t mind! It’s wonderful, Ronnie! It’s better than we dared to hope for . . . better than our wildest dreams! How good and kind he is! I wish I could thank him.”
“You can.”
“Oh, I know! Of course I shall thank him, but I mean I want to thank him now—this minute.”
“You can thank him now—this minute,” declared Ronnie, laughing happily. “He’s here.”
“Here?”
“Yes, sitting in the parlour. He came down with me in the Jag. If he hadn’t been with me I’d have pushed along and been with you a great deal sooner. He was determined to come with me; he said he wanted to see you.”
“If he’s here——” she began, trying to rise.
“He’s all right,” said Ronnie, tightening his arm round her waist and kissing her ear. “I left him talking to Chowne. He told me to go and find you and not to hurry. He’s all right—he knows everything—and he’s pleased.”
“Your mother won’t be pleased.”
“She’ll love you when she gets to know you, darling. Anyhow, we needn’t worry. Uncle Bob can manage Mother; he can twist her round his little finger; she always does what he says. We needn’t——”
“We must go to him,” interrupted Elfrida; she unclasped the arm around her waist, not without difficulty, and rose.
“He said not to hurry,” murmured Ronnie.
Elfrida took no notice but walked up the path to the house . . . so Ronnie ran after her and took her hand and they went on together.
“You needn’t worry, Elfrida Jane,” said Ronnie. “He happy about it—really happy. He talked a lot coming down in the car and he said this had taken away some of the sadness of the past. He felt it was a good ending to an unhappy story. He talked about our wedding; he wants it to be soon. He said Mother would want the wedding to be in London but he hoped we would decide to be married here, at Mountain Cross.”
“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Elfrida. “We must be married here in the little church . . . but not too soon.”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . well, because I’ve got to get used to the idea of being married.”
“How long will it take you to get used to the idea?” asked Ronnie anxiously.
Elfrida did not know how long it would take. She promised to think about it. “What else did he say, coming down in the car?” she asked.
“He said he hoped we’d ask him to stay with us sometimes.”
“As often as he likes!” exclaimed Elfrida.
“Yes. As often as he likes,” agreed Ronnie.
They found him sitting in the parlour reading the Sunday Times, and Elfrida was glad to see that Chowne had produced a bottle of sherry and a plate of biscuits for him.
He rose when they came in and held out his hand to Elfrida but she put her arms round his neck.
“Thank you . . . thank you . . . thank you!” she said. “This all your doing, dear Uncle Bob.” Then she kissed him very gently and hid her face against his shoulder.
“Why all these thank yous?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“For giving me Ronnie,” said Elfrida.
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