"Did I ever turn yours, Kitty?" he asked, with a mischievous smile.
"Dozens of times," she cried. "Dozens of times!"
Then she took his arm, and they went up and down in the bright sunshine, up and down, while the major would thump his cane upon the ground with that gruff laugh that always seemed merrier than other people's. His white hair was smoothly brushed, and his black hat was set on jauntily, and his kind eyes shone as if he were young again. I noticed that the lady from over the way always wore a black silk dress and her best, curly, brown hair whenever she came to walk with the major, and, also, a battered silver bracelet which looked as if it had been chewed. The major would glance at it and laugh.
"I took castor-oil to buy that bracelet," he said once, with his twinkle.
It sounded funny, but I knew just what he meant. I had made dollars and dollars myself taking castor-oil, except that time when Auntie May mixed it so cunningly with lemonade that it went down and down to the very dregs, and I never discovered until then how I had been cheated out of my just dues.
"So that was it!" the lady from over the way exclaimed, patting the bracelet. "I always knew that there was something curious about it."
"It was harder than leading a regiment into action," the major answered, soberly, and then broke into a gleeful laugh. "I wouldn't do it for you now!" he cried.
First she threatened him with the bracelet. Then she took his arm again, and they went on in the sunshine, talking of all the many people whom they had known in their lives. Her touch on his arm was very light, guiding, and sustaining, rather than dependent, but the old major thought that she leant upon him.
I was not jealous of the lady from over the way. I felt that we shared the major between us, and then it was always at my gate that he stopped first. It was here that he told me about a trip that he was intending to make.
"I'm going off to the city for a week," he said.