"I am too far away from you to say anything, but I am glad, very glad, dear John!"
"You will be ready by Whitsunday?"
"I shall be ready by Whitsunday!"
There was a pause. The light came clearer in the east. John Charles could see the girl's fresh complexion thrown up by the dark cloak, an edging of lace, white and dainty, just showing beneath.
"Carnation, I wish I could kiss you!" he said.
"Will this do instead?" she answered him, smiling through the wetness of her eyes.
And she lifted up the old worn class medal she had carried so long on its blue ribbon, and kissed it openly.
And that had perforce to "do" John Charles—at least, for that time of asking.
JAIMSIE
As I drove home the other day I saw that old lazybones Jacob Irving seated in the sun with a whole covey of boys round him. He had his pocket-knife in his hand, and was busy mending a "gird." The "gird," or wooden hoop, belonged to Will Bodden, and its precedence in medical treatment had been secured by Will's fists. There was quite a little hospital ward behind, of toys all awaiting diagnosis in strict order of primacy.