How foolish of me making a mistake like that!"
"You shot my only son!" cried Mr. Mortimer.
"I shot _at_ him," said Jane. "My belief is that I missed him.
Though how I came to do it beats me. I don't suppose I've missed a
sitter like that since I was a child in the nursery. Of course," she
proceeded, looking on the reasonable side, "the visibility wasn't good,
and I fired from the hip, but it's no use saying I oughtn't at least to
have winged him, because I ought." She shook her head with a touch of
self-reproach. "I shall be chaffed about this if it comes out," she
said regretfully.
"The poor boy must be in his room," said Mr. Mortimer.
"Under the bed, if you ask me," said Jane, blowing on the barrel of her
gun and polishing it with the side of her hand. "_He's_ all right!
Leave him alone, and the housemaid will sweep him up in the morning."
"Oh, he can't be!" cried Billie, revolted.
A girl of high spirit, it seemed to her repellent that the man she was
engaged to marry should be displaying such a craven spirit.
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