CHAPTER V
_From John Grant's Diary_
When I awoke this morning, I was inclined to pinch myself, wondering
whether I was still dreaming. In a moment, however, my recollections were
perfectly clear. Yesterday evening I met people such as I should no more
have expected to find in Sweetapple Cove than in the mountains of the
moon. I am glad that my idea in coming here was not to convert myself
into a hermit; I am afraid I should have been sadly disappointed. Mr.
Jelliffe is a man just beyond middle age, shrewd and inclined to good
nature. His daughter, like the rest of her sex, is probably a problem,
but so far I can only discover in her an exceedingly nice young lady who
dotes on her father and takes rather a sensible view of things.
It appears that they have been all over the world and, like experienced
travelers, understand exceedingly well the art of adapting oneself to all
manners of surroundings. In no time at all they had transformed their
ugly little house into quite a decent dwelling.
Miss Jelliffe is a decidedly attractive young woman. Of course I can
only compare her with Dora Maclennon. They belong to two different
types. The one is a bustling little woman, very earnest, determined and
hard-working, who looks to the world for something which must as yet be
rather indefinitely shaped in her mind, and who is going to find it. The
other, I should say, has no cut and dried aim or ambition.
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