“It means nothing to me,” declared Patty; “my sweetheart hath my heart and I have his, so, Phil may come and Phil may go, but we go on forever!”
“You’re poetic today! I hear Bill sails soon.”
“Dunno. That’s as may be. Oh, Bumble, don’t let’s think of it!”
Patty’s eyes filled with tears, and Helen regretted her chance allusion.
“Never mind, Pattikins, you must remember what it means to be a soldier’s sweetheart, and bid him good-bye, with
‘Colours flying for Victory,
For the Flag and the Girl back home!’
That’s the way to look at it!”
“Yes, that’s all very well for you,—you’re not the Girl.”
“And then, he’ll return with colours still flying, to the Girl back home, and then it will be June and the wedding bells will ring, and the birds will sing and the orange bloomers bloom and the khaki on the groom and the veil on Patty-Pat, and I’ll wear a posy hat——”