The platoon, well content, dispersed homeward to supper, and Jim Hornbrook walked home with his girl.
“For Lord’s sake, Louise,” he said, “who started that move?”
She told him the history of the morning.
“Well,” he said, “you tell Mrs. Campbell, with my respects, that she’s just playing with fire. A good woman like her ought to have more sense. Those men are going to have a fair trial.”
“She wouldn’t listen to me, Jim, not a bit. And, do you know, she really didn’t seem to feel sorry—except just for a minute—about that poor woman.”
“Louise, why don’t you quit her outfit?”
“Resign from the Lyceum? That’s so silly of you, Jim. We’re not all crazy there; and that,” said Miss Sissons, demurely, “is what makes a girl like me so valuable!”
“Well, I’m not stuck on having you travel with that lot.”
“They speak better English than you do, Jim dear. Don’t! in the street!”