No, you never can tell!
All the same, I felt guilty, and began to wonder how long I should be able to hold out! And then——
It was a lovely Saturday in May. We had just got up from a late lunch when there came a violent ring at the door bell. The Head of Affairs was in the hall at the moment, and he opened the door—to find two big sailor-men on the doorstep, each carrying a parcel. They inquired for me.
Now, like most other households, khaki and navy blue always find a welcome at our door for the sake of our own who are away, serving their country, and those who have already laid down their lives in the cause of Right and Justice.
So the Head of Affairs walked them straight in upon me, without waiting to ask for their birth certificates.
Did I say they were big? That isn’t the word for it! They were more than that, they were massive; tall, broad, well-made, and tough-looking, with beaming, round, red faces; they ought to have been pictured, just as they were, for a naval recruiting poster.
They looked a little confused, for the moment, at finding themselves precipitated into an unexpected drawing room; but they made straight for me, with that large, rolling stride inseparable from the British sailor. Fortunately the room isn’t beset in the orthodox fashion with a multitude of bric-à-brac obstacles in the way of small chairs and tables, for they seemed to sweep the decks fore and aft as they strode over the carpet, and I thought I should never find my hand again after they had both given it a hearty shake.
As I looked at the big, burly fellows, both of them well on to forty I should say, I knew instinctively that these were our two forlorn sailor-lads—our poor anæmic, lonely Dick, and desolate, unsympathised-with Mick. And I must say I never saw two men bear neglect more bravely!
At first, conversation seemed all on my side: they sat stiffly on the extreme edge of their chairs, while Dick answered in monosyllables, Mick seeming permanently tongue-tied! But the Head of Affairs produced cigars warranted to banish all nervous embarrassment and to induce a man to sit comfortably anywhere; and soon they were giving us details of their homes and relatives—small things, perhaps, that are apparently the same the world over, but mean so much to each individual. It was still Dick who did most of the talking. He was undoubtedly the more attractive of the two.