Sergeant-Major Flannery recognized at once that he had done the wrong thing. His generous spirit had led him astray. If he had wished to inform Rosa that all was forgotten and forgiven he should have stepped out of the shrubbery and said so in a few simple words, face to face. By acting, as it were, obliquely and allowing himself to be for the moment a disembodied voice, he had made a mess of things. Among the things he had made a mess of were a pot of coffee, a pitcher of milk, a bowl of sugar, a dish of butter, vessels containing salt, mustard, and pepper, a rack of toast, and a plateful of eggs and bacon. All these objects now littered the turf before him; and, emerging from the shrubbery, he surveyed them ruefully.
"Oo-er!" he said.
Oddly enough, relief rather than annoyance seemed to be the emotion dominating his companion. If ever there was an occasion when a girl might excusably have said some of the things girls are so good at saying nowadays, this was surely it. But Rosa merely panted at the Sergeant-Major thankfully.
"I thought you was the Case Upstairs!" she gasped. "When I heard that ghastly sound right in my ear I thought it was him got out."
"You're all right, my girl," said Mr. Flannery. "I'm 'ere."
"Oh, Mr. Flannery!"
"There, there!" said the Sergeant-Major.
In spite of the feeling that he was behaving a little prematurely, he slipped a massive arm around the girl's waist. He also kissed her. He had not intended to commit himself quite so definitely as this, but it seemed now the only thing to do.
Rosa became calmer.
"I dropped the tray," she said.