Billy was dumb with dismay and disappointment, partly at the discovery that the much-talked-of and hitherto unimagined dada was a man, partly because he was such a very brown man, but chiefly because he had arrived shorn of the glories of the ship and the puff-puff which he had understood were to accompany him. So he sat still and rather sulky on the khaki shoulder while Private Bunce explained how he had caught sight of the little chap, and how he at once “spotted” him by that little nose of his, and how disappointed he had been when for a moment he had thought it was not his Billy after all, but some other quite uninteresting Billy belonging to another fellow.
“But I found him all right,” he summed up triumphantly, “and I found you, little woman—lookin’ tip-top you are, just about! Lard, it do seem a mortal time since I left you, my girl.”
“Oh, Bill, I meant to have everything so nice for ’ee,” cried Nellie. “Dear, to think there’s nothin’ ready! I’m sure I’m not fit to be seen myself.”
She glanced regretfully towards the wash-tub. Her pink blouse was in there—the blouse Bill had always said he liked—and her lace collar and the little ruffles for her wrists. The old blue cotton gown which she wore was not only faded and patched, but soiled and almost wet through.
“You’re lookin’ just splendid though,” cried her husband. “Why, that there’s the very gown you used to wear when we went a-coortin’—I mind it well—that little wavy stripe. I used to think it the prettiest thing I ever did see. And here’s the little curl comin’ down what I used to kiss when we was a-walkin’ down by the river.”
“Oh, Bill, is it comin’ down? I wanted to be so tidy and nice. I reckoned ye was comin’ next week, ye know.”
“I come over wi’ the colonel. He come across a bit sooner nor we expected, bein’ knocked up wi’ one thing and another. ‘The sooner the better,’ thinks I.”
“Of course,” cried Nellie fervently; “the sooner the better indeed. But we be all in a caddle here. There, the window curtains and the best table-cloth and the very bed-quilt is in the tub, and I haven’t got any meat in the house! I thought Billy and me ud go a bit short this week, so’s to have a reg’lar feast when you did come home. And—and——”
“Now, don’t you fret, old girl; we hadn’t no table-cloth nor yet bed-quilts out on the veldt. And as for meat—blowed if I do care so very much for meat. But I tell ye what I would like.”
“What?” cried Nellie breathlessly.