John. Such a change came over him in the following months that his friends found him near unrecognizable. Gone were his cold reserve and his tendency to meanness. Lightness and benevolence glowed in their place.“There is a rumour put about that you now feed your servants upon beefsteaks, Jack,” quipped Mr. Selwyn one evening as he sat at St. John’s dinner table, consuming potato pudding and tripe.My keeper smiled in a soft, saintly manner, but did not reply.“I shall have you know I disabused that person of their absurd notions. I said that anyone who knows Jack’s reputation for economy would understand that to be a gross falsehood.”Selwyn waited for a witty retort from my keeper, but St. John was in too serene a state of mind to spar with his friend. “Perhaps the gossipmongers of Mayfair are correct, sir. What then?”“Then heaven preserve us! For when this child is born, it will be the complete ruin of your miserly character!”Indeed St. John seemed a man transformed, and I could not help feeling a certain ache of guilt when I looked at him, particularly upon those occasions when he wore such a contented expression.As for me, the promise of motherhood held all manner of confusions, fears and joys.
