"He's a fine man," asserted Jack.

"Oh, I've no doubt. But he's an animal with a nasty bite, or I am much
mistaken. However, let Dot marry him by all means if she feels that way!
It's certainly high time she married somebody."

She turned aside to put the teapot on the hob, humming inconsequently,
and the subject dropped.

Jack went to his room to wash, and in a few minutes more they gathered
round the supper-table with careless talk of the doings of the day.

It had always been Dot's favourite time, the supper-hour. In the old days
before Jack's marriage she had looked forward to it throughout the day.
The companionship of this beloved brother of hers had been the chief joy
of her life.

But things were different now. It was her part to serve the meal, to
clear the table, and to wash the dishes Jack and Adela were complete
without her. Though they always welcomed her when the work was done, she
knew that her society was wholly unessential, and she often prolonged her
labours in the scullery that she might not intrude too soon upon them.
She was no longer necessary to anyone--except to Robin the faithful,
who followed her as her shadow. She had become Number Three, and she was
lonely--she was lonely!




CHAPTER III