"I had forgotten it," Burton admitted, "but I am quite willing to go."
Ellen turned towards the stairs.
"Down in five minutes," she announced. "I hope you've finished all that rubbishing talk. There's some tea in the tea-pot on the hob, if you want any. Don't upset things."
Burton drifted mechanically into the kitchen, noting its disorder with a new disapproval. He sat on the edge of the table for a few moments, gazing helplessly about him. Presently Ellen descended the stairs and called to him. He took up his hat and followed his wife and the boy out of the house. The latter eyed him wonderingly.
"Look at pa's hat!" he shouted. "Oh, my!"
Ellen stopped short upon her way to the gate.
"Alfred," she exclaimed, "you don't mean to say you're coming out with us like that—coming to the band, too, where we shall meet everyone?"
"Certainly, my dear," Burton replied, placing the object of their remarks fearlessly upon his head. "You may not be quite used to it yet, but I can assure you that it is far more becoming and suitable than a cheap silk hat, especially for an occasion like the present."
Ellen opened her mouth and closed it again—it was perhaps wise!
"Come on," she said abruptly. "Alfred wants to hear the soldier music and we are late already. Take your father's hand."