“Blossom Girl,” he whispered, “my own Patty Precious, are you glad to be here?”
“Well, I just am!” and Patty drew back to look in his eyes, and then flung her arms round his neck in a burst of joyous gladness. “But you’re so high up, Little Billee,—I can’t reach.”
“Going up!” said Bill, and he swung her from the floor up into his close embrace.
“There!” he said, after a series of kisses, “now, will you be good!”
Patty, laughing and breathless, was deposited on the sofa, and Bill sat down beside her.
“You blessed angel,” he said, looking at her as if he could never look his fill, “I wish I could just talk love nonsense to you, instead of telling you what I must.”
“Is it very bad, dear?” and Patty’s smile faded at the serious look in her lover’s eyes.
“Pretty bad, Patty-Pet, but a soldier’s life is not a lazy one. To put it as briefly as possible, I’m ordered to France.”
“Bill-lee! Me, too?”
“’Fraid not, Sweetheart, it’s a special mission and a hurry call, and all sorts of disagreeable stipulations.”