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Major Jen's calls for least. His face was round and red, with a terrific blonde mustache fiercely curled. He had merry blue eyes, sparse hair, more than touched with gray, and an expression of good-humor which was the index to his character. Man, woman and child trusted Jen on the spot, nor was it ever said that such trust was misplaced. Even the most censorious could find no fault with the frank and kindly major, and he had more friends and more pensioners and fewer enemies than any man in the shire. Can any further explanation be required of so simple and easily understood a character? "Yes," he replied, with point and some dryness. "It gives me a clew in a direction for which I should not have looked for it. Thank you, Miss Dallas, and you, Dido. I shall now say good-day." "But what—" began Patricia again..
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Miss Jinny grunted amiably at him, and then rose. "I guess you know what you're about, Bruce Haydon. Don't look to me to protect you, though, for I'm a mighty active feminist, and I can't waste any of my valuable time taking care of such a common critter as a man." With a nod to the girls, she beckoned her mother. A space was hurriedly cleared at the other end of the table, a chair placed and Patricia saw Elinor, blushing and protesting, thrust into it by a dozen laughing students. That's just what I mean—love boiled down and sugared over is apt to get an explosive flavour, and one had better be careful with that kind if one is timid; which I'm not. As I said, also, I am ready for a little more of life, so I read on without fear. And, to be fair, Alfred had well boiled his own last paragraph. It snapped; and I jumped and gasped. I almost thought I didn't quite like it, and was going to read it over again to see, when I saw a procession coming over from Dr. John's, and I laid the bombshell down on the bench. She watched Margaret Howes and Elinor till they turned into the screened entrance to the portrait room; then she turned to Patricia with easy friendliness..
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