Jasher was at home, and expressed herself happy to see the
girl.
"So good of you to come and see me in my little wooden hut," said
the widow, kissing her guest.
And Mrs. Jasher's cottage really was a little wooden hut, being
what was left of an old-fashioned farmhouse, built before the
stone age. It lay on the verge of the marshes in an isolated
position and was placed in the middle of a square garden,
protected from the winter floods by a low stone wall solidly
built, but of no great height. The road to the Fort ran past the
front part of the garden, but behind the marshes spread towards
the embankment, which cut off the view of the Thames. The
situation was not an ideal one, nor was the cottage, but money
was scarce with Mrs. Jasher, and she had obtained the whole place
at a surprisingly small rental. The house and grounds were dry
enough in summer, but decidedly damp in winter. Therefore, the
widow went to a flat in London, as a rule, for the season of
fogs. But this winter she had made up her mind--so she told
Lucy--to remain in her own little castle and brave the watery
humors of the marshes.
"I can always keep fires burning in every room," said Mrs.
Jasher, when she had removed her guest's hat and had settled her
for a confidential talk on the sofa.
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