“There is a letter from Colonel Lane for you, Annie,” Uncle Robert called from the doorstep.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE LETTER
“My dear Mrs. Barrimore,” Colonel Lane’s letter began, “I may remain here some time. Poor Henderson has rallied for the moment, but he seems to find my companionship a comfort, so I shall stay. I know my dear friends at Hawk’s Nest will look after Phyllis.
“To me it is indescribably sad to see a brave soldier on his back, in a home such as this. He has nothing beyond his half-pay, and illness is expensive. He has been an invalid for six years now, unable even to walk without assistance at the best of times. He has two boys at Dulwich College. Mrs. Henderson, poor soul! is a helpless sort of woman, and can neither control the boys nor the house, though I am sure she does her best, according to her lights. She goes to early celebration every morning, wet or fine, but I think she would be serving God better if she stayed at home, and saw that the awful little maid-of-all-work did not burn poor Henderson’s toast.
“She worries poor Henderson by reading prayers to him in a voice like a corncrake’s every morning and evening. Occasionally Henderson rebels, using regrettable language.
“The house is one of a row, in a road called a ‘Grove,’ because a few trees grow on each side of it. There is a patch of front garden, and a larger patch behind. Henderson’s boys have laid his particular patch waste—the one at the back, I mean—and unfortunately that is all Henderson has to look at from his window. He has a kind of back-parlor allotted to him. He sleeps there (when he does sleep!) and lies there all day.
“Piano-organs run riot.
“Oh, if only I had known earlier, when it would have been possible to remove my poor friend to my house for a change!
“They came here, it seems, to get the boys educated at Dulwich College. But East Dulwich is one of the most depressing places I ever saw.
“Henderson and I yarn about Army matters—that is, I yarn, and he puts in something now and then. But he seems cheered, and forgets his pain while we travel over old roads after this fashion.