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"Eva, come and show yourself to Teddie's friend, and then shake us a cocktail," called Jackson. Then he led Bateman to a long low window. "Look at that," he said, with a dramatic gesture. "Look well." Below them coconut trees tumbled down steeply to the lagoon, and the lagoon in the evening light had the colour, tender and varied, of a dove's breast.
From that date God sent prosperity to the cottage on the Border. Flocks increased, seasons were no longer bad, grey mares no longer broke their legs, turnips throve, and, in short, everything went well, so that, instead of using the large sums of money which his son frequently sent him, Mr Jack placed them all to "dear Teddie's" credit in the bank.
"I certainly didn't know it," said Helen meekly. "Why should I, please?" "Only because everybody else does," said Betty, and wondered if Jean could possibly belong with Helen in the ignorant minority. It seemed very unlikely, but then it seemed a sheer impossibility that Helen should have sat at the Belden House dinner-table day after day and not have heard Teddie's woes discussed.
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