David assured her that he would make all inquiries and went out of the room whistling blithely.  Jean, left alone, sat thinking.  Was the money to be a treasure to her or the reverse?  It was fine to give David what he wanted, to know that Jock and Mhor could have the best of everything, but their wants would grow and grow; simple tastes and habits were easily shed, and luxurious ways easily learned.  Would the possession of money spoil the boys?  She sighed, and then smiled rather ruefully as she thought of David and his smart maids and motors and his desire to turn her into a modern girl.  It was very natural and very boyish of him.  “He’ll have the face ett off me,” said Jean, quoting the Irish R.M....  Richard Plantagenet hadn’t minded her being old-fashioned.

It was odd how empty her life felt when it ought to feel so rich.  She had the three boys beside her, Pamela was next door, she had all manner of schemes in hand to keep her thoughts occupied—­but there was a great want somewhere.  Jean owned to herself that the blank had been there ever since Lord Bidborough went away.  It was frightfully silly, but there it was.  And probably by this time he had quite forgotten her.  It had amused him to imagine himself in love, something to pass the time in a dull little town.  She knew from books that men had a roving fancy—­but even as she said it to herself her heart rebuked her for disloyalty Richard Plantagenet’s eyes, laughing, full of kindness and honest—­oh, honest, she was sure!—­looked into hers.  She thrilled again as she seemed to feel the touch of his hand and heard his voice saying, “Oh, Penny-plain, are you going to send me away?” Why hadn’t he written to congratulate her on the fortune?  He might have done that, surely....  And Pamela hardly spoke of him.  Didn’t seem to think Jean would be interested.  Jean, whose heart leapt into her throat at the mere casual mention of his name.

Jean looked up quickly, hearing a step on the gravel.  It was Pamela sauntering in, smiling over her shoulder at Mhor, who was swinging on the gate with Peter by his side.

“Oh, Pamela, I am glad to see you.  David says I am using the money in such a stuffy way.  Do you think I am?”

“What does David want you to do?” Pamela asked, as she threw off her coat and knelt before the fire to warm her hands.

  “’To eat your supper in a room
    Blazing with lights, four Titians on the wall
    And twenty naked girls to change your plate?’”

Jean laughed.  “Something like that, I suppose.  Anyway he wants a smart parlour-maid at once, and a motor-car.  Also he wants me to wear earrings, and talk slang, and wear the newest sort of clothes.”