But even those whom Nature has destined to be mates may misunderstand each other, and Jane, who was as modest as she was brave, had come recently to place a different interpretation on his silence. In the last few days of the voyage she had quite made up her mind that Eustace Hignett loved her and would shortly intimate as much in the usual manner; but, since coming to Windles, she had begun to have doubts. She was not blind to the fact that Billie Bennett was distinctly prettier than herself and far more the type to which the ordinary man is attracted. And, much as she loathed the weakness and despised herself for yielding to it, she had become distinctly jealous of her. True, Billie was officially engaged to Bream Mortimer, but she had had experience of the brittleness of Miss Bennett’s engagements, and she could by no means regard Eustace as immune. “Do you suppose they will be happy?” she asked. “Eh? Who?” said Eustace, excusably puzzled, for they had only just finished talking about alligators. But there had been a pause since his last remark, and Jane’s thoughts had flitted back to the subject that usually occupied them. “Billie and Bream Mortimer.” “Oh!” said Eustace. “Yes, I suppose so.” “She’s a delightful girl.” “Yes,” said Eustace without much animation. “And, of course, it’s nice their fathers being so keen on the match. It doesn’t often happen that way.” “No. People’s people generally want people to marry people people don’t want to marry,” said Eustace, clothing in words a profound truth which from the earliest days of civilisation has deeply affected the youth of every country. “I suppose your mother has got somebody picked out for you to marry?” said Jane casually. “Mother doesn’t want me to marry anybody,” said Eustace with gloom. It was another obstacle to his romance. “What, never?” “No.” “Why ever not?” “As far as I can make out, if I marry, I get this house and mother has to clear out. Silly business!” “Well, you wouldn’t let your mother stand in the way if you ever really fell in love?” said Jane. “It isn’t so much a question of _letting_ her stand in the way. The tough job would be preventing her. You’ve never met my mother!” “No, I’m looking forward to it!” “You’re looking forward...!” Eustace eyed her with honest amazement. “But what could your mother do? I mean, supposing you had made up your mind to marry somebody.” “What could she do? Why, there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do. Why, once....” Eustace broke off. The anecdote which he had been about to tell contained information which, on reflection, he did not wish to reveal. “Once—...?” said Jane. “Oh, well, I was just going to show you what mother is like. I—I was going out to lunch with a man, and—and—” Eustace was not a ready improvisator—“and she didn’t want me to go, so she stole all my trousers!”