“Cheer up, old man; it’ll soon be over, and p’raps you’ll recover. You’re not the first fellow to be married, though I suppose you imagine that there’s never been such an important affair upon this poor old globe before. Cheer up! I’ve heard of fellows who’ve survived it.”
“Thanks! I’m fairly cheerful considering, but being with the Lucknow Army don’t seem to have improved your at-no-time very admirable manners.”
“Never had any. Everybody used to tell me how much I took after my eldest brother. Seriously, Jim, I wish you’d been with us at Lucknow. I’ve had a great time.”
And Jim listened, leaning back with legs crossed and hands clasped behind his head, while Ted recounted some of the most striking episodes of the campaign and of his own adventures.
“You’re a decent sort of kid, Ted,” the elder brother allowed. “I wish the Guides had been there. Now I believe you’re dying to have a chat with Ethel, and I know she’s as anxious as can be to see you again. So go and find her, young ’un. I’m horribly busy and can’t go with you. I would if I could, you may be sure.”
“I will go and condole with her. She needs some genuine sympathy and consolation, and she shall have it. How far is it? Worth taking the horse out again?”
“No, not five minutes away.”
Before Ted had proceeded a couple of hundred yards, he beheld the object of his search riding towards home, her thoughts uplifted far above the humble wayfarer whom she was about to pass without recognition.
“Evening, Miss Woodburn!” said Ted.
Ethel gave a start and reined in her horse.