"I don't see," observed Colette, on learning of the existence and
development of the syndicate, "why the Boarder is in on it. I thought he
was going to have a Lily Rose garden all his own."
"We thought so, too," replied Amarilly. "He's been saving up to get
married, and he's got a raise now, so the day is set for some time in
June; but he told us the night we were first planning to buy the house
that he wanted to be one of the syndicate. You see Lily Rose works--I
mean she overworks--in a factory, and so the Boarder--you know he is
awful gentle-like to her--says that she mustn't keep house or do
anything but real light work after this. He has an interest in the house
now, and he is going to build on a sort of an annex with a sitting-room
and a bedroom and furnish it up fine, and when they are married, they
are going to live there and take their meals with us. And they want Mr.
St. John to marry them, and they want you to come. And Mr. Derry is
coming. He asked to be invited."
For once Colette did not laugh at the chronicles of the Jenkins family.
A very tender look came into her flashing eyes.
"That is very sweet in him--in the Boarder--to feel that way and to be
so tender with Lily Rose. She ought to be very happy with a love and
protection like that awaiting her."
"Yes," assented Amarilly; "it must be very nice to feel like that, and
Mr. Derry says he really believes that it is only with poor folks like
us and the Boarder and Lily Rose that love runs smooth."
"Then," said Colette musingly, "I wish I were poor--like you and the
Boarder and Lily Rose!"
Amarilly secretly divined that this was merely a thought spoken aloud,
so she made no comment. She had pondered a great deal over the attitude
of her two friends towards each other. The only place she ever
encountered them together was at church and to her observing eyes it was
quite apparent that there was a restraint in their bearing. Amarilly
remained so preoccupied with her thoughts that Colette, looking at her
searchingly, became curious as to the cause.
"Amarilly," she commanded, "tell me what you were thinking of just now--
I mean since I spoke last. I shall know by; your eyes if you don't tell
me exactly."
"Mr. Derry says my eyes will always give me away," evaded Amarilly.