“Come to my room, Sergeant Hardy, and I’ll tell you all about it,” she said, leading the way to her apartment, where the sergeant placed himself upon a chair, bolt upright, as if he were going to have a tooth drawn, or were about to illustrate some new species of sitting-drill.
Chapter Twenty One.
Shows how the Lady of the Institute discourses to the Sergeant, how Jack-Tars go out on the Spree, and how Music Conquers Warriors.
“It seems wonderful to me, madam,” said Sergeant Hardy, looking round the lady’s room with an admiring gaze, “how quickly you have got things into working order here. When I remember that last year this place was a heap of rubbish, it seems like magic.”
“Ah! the work of God on earth seems magical the more we reflect on it,” returned the lady. “The fact that our Institute was conceived, planned, and carried into successful operation by an invalid lady, in spite of discouragement, and, at first, with inadequate means, is itself little short of miraculous, but what is even more surprising is the fact that the Government, which began by throwing cold water on her Portsmouth work, has ended by recognising it and by affording us every facility here in Alexandria.”
“Well, you see, madam, I suppose it’s because they see that we soldiers and sailors likes it, an’ it does a power o’ good—don’t you think?”
“No doubt, but whatever may be the reason, Sergeant, we are very thankful for the encouragement. I suppose you have heard what a grand occasion our opening day was?”
“No, madam, I haven’t. You see, away at Suakim we was so constantly taken up with the attentions of Osman Digna that we had little time for anything but eatin’ and sleepin’ when we wasn’t on sentry an’ fightin’, so that we often missed bits of news. Was there a great turn-out o’ men?”