In a passive way Mrs. Hearty also had noticed the change. She had even gone to the length of remarking upon it to Bindle.
"She's growin' into a woman, Martha," had been Bindle's diagnosis; "an' an uncommon pretty woman, too. I s'pose she gets it from 'Earty," he added, whereat Mrs. Hearty had subsided into waves of mirth.
At first Bindle had been in some doubt as to the wisdom of his action in encouraging the romance between the young lovers; but as it progressed and he saw their devotion and Millie's happiness, all scruples vanished.
"I may be a silly ole fool," he muttered to himself one night as he left the radiant Milly at her door, "but I'm 'elpin' them two kids to be 'appy, an' after all, 'appiness is the thing wot matters. If yer can get it through lookin' into a gal's eyes, it's better'n gettin' it through lookin' into a beer-glass. I'd sooner be 'appy than drunk any day."
Unconsciously Bindle had stumbled upon a great truth.
At first Millie's "evenin' out," as Bindle called it, was spent at a local cinema, Bindle conveniently disappearing until ten o'clock, when he would take Millie home. Later, however, walks and rides on omnibuses took the place of "the pictures" in the evening's entertainment.
Several times Millie and Charlie Dixon begged Bindle to accompany them, but he had always resolutely refused.
"Look 'ere, young feller, yer wouldn't 'ave a look in wi' Millie if I was there. Ain't that so, Millikins?" And Millie would hang on to Bindle's arm with both hands and give a little jump of joy.
One evening when Bindle arrived at the cinema at a few minutes to ten, he saw Charlie Dixon there alone, obviously in a state of great excitement.
"'Ullo, Charlie!" said Bindle, "wot's up? Where's Millikins?" There was alarm in Bindle's voice.