WATERLOO BRIDGE BY MOONLIGHT.
IT was about a fortnight after the conversation recorded in the first chapter, when Phil, coming in from work somewhat earlier than usual, asked Millie to go out for a walk with him. It had been a hot, close day, and at the mere thought of a cool stroll with her brother she jumped up with alacrity.
"You don't mind being left alone, uncle?" she asked of that individual, who sat by the open window smoking a short pipe.
"No, no," he said, "I'm glad for you to go." Then looking at her rather anxiously, he added, "You haven't looked so well lately. There, take this penny and go on the bridge. The breeze from the river will freshen you a bit."
Waterloo Bridge is a free thoroughfare now, but at the time of this story there was a toll of one halfpenny upon every passenger who crossed it.
"Thank you, uncle," said Millie gratefully.
He had come home sober that evening—a rare occurrence—and was showing an unusual amount of interest in domestic matters.
"We won't stay out very late."
"The longer the better, child. I shan't want you. Just put the bread and cheese on the table, though, before you go. There will be nothing to make you hurry back then," he said kindly.
Phil fidgeted about till this was done. Then he and Millie started off. Down Drury Lane and out into the Strand they passed; crossed the road into Wellington Street, and so arrived on Waterloo Bridge, where they sauntered to and fro awhile; then Millie said: