‘But I’ll keep it all the same,’ said the innocent soldier, as if he knew a good deal about womankind; and he put the flower carefully inside his jacket, between his white waistcoat and his heart.
Festus, seeing this, enlarged himself wrathfully, got hot in the face, rose to his feet, and glared down upon them like a turnip-lantern.
‘Let us go away,’ said Anne timorously.
‘I’ll see you safe to your own door, depend upon me,’ said Loveday. ‘But—I had near forgot—there’s father’s letter, that he’s so anxiously waiting for! Will you come with me to the post-office? Then I’ll take you straight home.’
Anne, expecting Festus to pounce down every minute, was glad to be off anywhere; so she accepted the suggestion, and they went along the parade together.
Loveday set this down as a proof of Anne’s relenting. Thus in joyful spirits he entered the office, paid the postage, and received the letter.
‘It is from Bob, after all!’ he said. ‘Father told me to read it at once, in case of bad news. Ask your pardon for keeping you a moment.’ He broke the seal and read, Anne standing silently by.
‘He is coming home to be married,’ said the trumpet-major, without looking up.
Anne did not answer. The blood swept impetuously up her face at his words, and as suddenly went away again, leaving her rather paler than before. She disguised her agitation and then overcame it, Loveday observing nothing of this emotional performance.
‘As far as I can understand he will be here Saturday,’ he said.