During the journey Bindle went on to explain that Mr. Hearty never expected a guest to have the temerity to cut a pineapple when placed upon his hospitable board.
"Is that so?" remarked Mr. Sopley, not in the least understanding what Bindle was saying.
"It is," said Bindle solemnly; "you see, they goes back into stock."
"Ah-h-h-h!" remarked Mr. Sopley, gazing at the roof of the carriage.
"Clever ole bird this," muttered Bindle. "About as brainy as a cock-sparrow wot's 'ad the wind knocked out of 'im."
When Bindle entered the Heartys' dining-room he found the atmosphere one of unrelieved gloom. Mrs. Hearty was crying, Mr. Hearty looked nervously solemn, Mrs. Bindle was uncompromisingly severe, and the other guests all seemed intensely self-conscious. The men gazed about them for some place to put their hats and umbrellas, the women wondered what they should do with their hands. At the further end of the room stood Millie and Charlie Dixon, Millie's hand still tucked through her husband's arm. Never was there such joylessness as in Mr. Hearty's dining-room that morning.
"'Ullo, 'ullo!" cried Bindle as he entered with Mr. Sopley. "Ain't this a jolly little crowd!"
Millie brightened-up instantaneously, Charlie Dixon looked relieved. Mr. Hearty dashed forward to welcome Mr. Sopley, tripped over Bindle's cane, which he was holding awkwardly, and landed literally on Mr. Sopley's bosom.
Mr. Sopley stepped back and struck his head against the edge of the door.
"Look at 'earty tryin' to kiss ole Woe-and-Whiskers," remarked Bindle audibly. Millie giggled, Charlie Dixon smiled, Mrs. Bindle glared, and the rest of the guests looked either disapprovingly at Bindle, or sympathetically at Mr. Hearty and Mr. Sopley. Mrs. Hearty collapsed into a chair and began to undulate with mirth.