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“You may not realise it now, dear,” she had said, “but an education is something you must have if you are ever to amount to anything. And there’s just one time to get it, and that’s now. If you study hard you’ll be through high school next year. You’ll be eighteen, and that’s quite young enough to start earning a living. Meanwhile Aunt Sarah will give you a good home, dear. I shall pay her a little, as much as I can afford, so you needn’t feel that you are accepting charity. You must try to be nice to her, too. She—she doesn’t always show her best side, unless she’s changed since I saw her last, but she’s as good as gold, for all her sharp tongue. And I want you to try and remember that, dear.”

He recalled the words now and tried to banish the mental picture of Aunt Sarah which he had unconsciously drawn: a tall, thin, elderly maiden lady with sharp features and a sharper tongue, dressed in a gingham gown of no particular colour and wearing a shawl over her shoulders. But the preconceived vision wouldn’t be dispelled, and consequently, when a few minutes later, the door of the little yellow house with chocolate-coloured trimmings opened to his ring and Aunt Sarah confronted him, he was not a bit surprised. For she was, with the exception of gingham dress and shawl, so much like what he had imagined that it was quite as if he had known her for a long time.