He had dinner alone with Mrs. Hodder, refusing a score of invitations that he might give her this happiness. She had been up, baking and brewing, since daybreak, and he had divined that it would be a blow to her if he brought even one guest home. He was glad, moreover, of the hour’s interval in which to draw breath. He did his best to make the eating of the sumptuous meal a little festival for the woman opposite him, but in spite of his best efforts it partook of the character of the parting bread-breaking.
“You—you won’t be getting into danger so much, Mr. Black, will you, as if you was a regular soldier?” Mrs. Hodder suggested timidly, as the dinner drew to a finish with not more than half the food she had prepared consumed. It was the first time her thrifty nature had ever thus let itself go, and she had looked conscience-stricken ever since she realized the situation. But her question voiced the thought uppermost in her mind. It took precedence even of her worry about the terrible waste of which she had been guilty!
“Oh, you’re not to be anxious over any danger for me,” Black assured her, smiling across the table at her. “Just remember that some day you’ll get up another just such splendid dinner as this for me, and then we’ll eat it with better appetites. I shall come back ravenous for home cooking, as all soldiers do.”
“Then—you’ll keep the place open for me, sir?”
“You’ll keep it open for me, Mrs. Hodder. It’s you who will be in demand for other positions. I’ll think myself lucky if you promise to come back to me.”
He was glad to get away now from her tearful face, for this assurance upset her completely, and she could only apologize and weep again into a large handkerchief already damp from the demands made upon it at the morning service.
Red and the big Macauley car were at the door now with Mrs. Burns, Jane Ray, and little Sue Dunstan already established in it. They were off and away at once. Black sat beside Red, and the two fell into talk while those behind silently watched them. They were an interesting pair to watch, in conversation.
“They are so different, one would hardly have expected them to become such devoted friends,” Mrs. Burns said to Jane, after a time.
“Oh, do you think they are so different?” Jane glanced from the black head to the red one—they were not far apart. Black’s arm was stretched along the back of the seat behind Red; he was leaning close and talking rapidly in Red’s ear. The latter was listening intently; from time to time he nodded emphatically, and now and then he interjected a vigorous exclamation of assent. Evidently, whatever the subject under consideration, they were remarkably agreed upon it—which had by no means always been the case in past discussions. Perhaps they were agreeing to agree to-day, since it was the last—for so long.
“They seem to me much alike,” Jane went on, at Mrs. Burns’ look of inquiry. “Not in personality, of course, but—well—in force of character, and in the way they both go straight at a thing and never let go of it till they have accomplished what they set out to do.”