The tails of both hung down behind,
Their shoes were on their feet.’
“All the same, those are fine weight carriers, and have lots of bone. That girl must ride thirteen stone, if she weighs an ounce. I think she seemed a little sniffy because you did not take me there to pay a visit of ceremony.”
“Oh, Ronnie, I have only had you for two days, and the day we spent together in London.”
“Well then, let’s make the most of our time,” he said, seating himself once more on the bridge, “and continue to talk of our joys and sorrows.”
“Your joys and my sorrows,” I corrected.
“Yes, there is something in that. I have, ten to one, the best of it. Here am I at six-and-twenty, on the point of getting my company, returning to a life that suits me down to the ground, strong and healthy, with lots of pals, and a fat balance at Cox’s. Oh, Sis, I tell you, it’s jolly to be alive!” and he thumped me violently on the back. “This old world is a grand place; I have a feeling in my bones that in some way my name will ring through it—my subconscious what-you-may-call-it tells me that I am going to have a ripping career—I shall make the race of Lingard famous!”
“I hope you will, with all my heart,” I answered with enthusiasm. “And I shall play the part of proud sister to the manner born.”
“Yes, you have always been my backer,” said Ronnie, “and no end of a brick.”
“What happens to you in a way affects me; your good luck will be my good luck. Perhaps this old bridge may be uncanny, for I too have my premonitions, and I believe that in some unexpected way our fortunes will be bound together.”