Bindle pulled her down upon his knee and kissed her. "You ain't goin' agin your ole uncle, are you, Millikins?" he cried; then suddenly turning to Mr. Hearty he enquired, "Ain't we goin' to 'ave any 'ymns, 'Earty? 'Ere, I say, can't you stop Wheezy Willie doin' that, ole sport?" this to Mr. Gupperduck who was still struggling to silence the mutinous E sharp; "sets my teeth on edge, it does. I'm in rare voice to-night, bought some acid drops, I did, as I come along, an' 'ad two raw eggs in the private bar of The Yellow Ostrich."
Bindle ran up a dubious scale to prove his words.
"Oh! do be quiet, Uncle Joe," laughed Millie. "You'll frighten Mr. MacFie away."
Bindle turned and regarded the solemn visage of Mr. MacFie; his long immobile upper lip; his sandy hair, parted in the middle and brushed smoothly down upon his head.
"No, Millikins," he said with conviction, "there ain't nothink wot'll frighten a Scotchman out of England. They know wot's wot, they do. Ain't that so, sir?" he enquired of Mr. MacFie.
Mr. MacFie regarded Bindle as if he were talking in a foreign tongue.
Mr. Gupperduck laid his accordion on a chair, giving up the unequal struggle. The others, taking this as a signal that music was over for the evening, seated themselves in various parts of the room.
"I'm glad you're 'ere, sir," said Bindle to Mr. MacFie. "I wanted your advice on somethink in the Bible. Now then, Millikins, you got to sit down beside me. Can't sit on your uncle's knee when we're talkin' about the Bible. Wot'll Charlie say?" Then turning to Mr. MacFie with what he imagined to be great subtlety and tact, Bindle enquired, "You ain't met Charlie Dixon, 'ave you, sir?"
Mr. MacFie shook a mournful head in negation.
"'E's goin' to marry Millikins, ain't 'e, Millikins?"