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Updated: June 26, 2025
Her surprise when she came down again and found Mr. Jobling rearranging the furniture, and even adding a choice ornament or two from the kitchen, was too elaborate to escape his notice. "Been going to do it for some time," he remarked. Mrs. Jobling left the room and strove with herself in the scullery. She came back pale of face and with a gleam in her eye which her husband was too busy to notice.
And a man is as old as he feels, you know." Mr. Jobling nodded acquiescence and observed that he always felt about twenty-two; a state of affairs which he ascribed to regular habits, and a great partiality for the company of young people. "I was just twenty-two when I married," he mused, "and my missis was just six months " "You leave my age alone," interrupted his wife, trembling with passion.
A figure came out of the blackness on the lee side of the deck. "Who is that?" said he. It was Captain Rosy. I answered. "What, Rodney! alive?" cried he. "I think I have been struck insensible." Two more figures came crawling aft. Then two more. They were the carpenter and three seamen. I cried out, "Who was at the helm when that sea was shipped?" A man answered, "Me, Thomas Jobling."
The girl nodded. "But I shall take a tram at the end of the street," she said, rising. Mr. Jobling rose too, and all that he had ever heard or read about etiquette came crowding into his mind. A weekly journal patronized by his wife had three columns regularly, but he taxed his memory in vain for any instructions concerning brown-eyed strangers with sprained ankles.
He helped himself to bread and butter and began to discuss money and how to spend it. His ideas favored retirement and a nice little place in the country. "I wonder you don't do it," said the girl, softly. Mr. Jobling laughed. "Gingell and Watson don't pay on those lines," he said. "We do the work and they take the money."
"It's no wonder people like you," pursued Mrs. Jobling, ignoring the question, and smiling again as she placed three chairs at the table. "I'll wait a minute or two before I soak the tea; I expect Miss Robinson won't be long, and she likes it fresh." Mr. Jobling, to conceal his amazement and to obtain a little fresh air walked out of the room and opened the front door.
"Two hours!" he said, invitingly; "two whole hours, without a stop." "I 'ope it done you good," retorted his wife. "I noticed you did wipe one foot when you come in to-night." Mr. Jobling denied the charge hotly, and, by way of emphasizing his denial, raised his foot and sent the mat flying along the passage.
He followed her 'ome last night, and this morning he found out all about her." The mention of Mr. Brown's name caused Mr. Jobling at first to assume an air of indifference; but curiosity overpowered him. "What lies has he been telling?" he demanded. "I don't think it's a lie, Bill," said his wife, mildly. "Putting two and two " "What did he say?" cried Mr. Jobling, raising his voice.
"It's always the way," said the girl, indignantly; "they have all the luxuries, and the men who make the money for them all the hardships. I seem to know the name Gingell and Watson. I wonder where I've seen it?" "In the paper, p'r'aps," said Mr. Jobling. "Advertising?" asked the girl. Mr. Jobling shook his head. "Robbery," he replied, seriously. "It was in last week's paper.
Argenter, shall you not?" "Why, yes, if I could be of any service. But one wouldn't like to intrude. There are executors to the will. I don't know that it is quite my place." "I don't believe there will be much intruding of your sort. And the executors have got nothing to do now. Who are they?" "Jobling and Cardwell, I believe. Men down town. Perhaps she might like to see a neighbor.
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