This was scarcely calculated to set him entirely at his ease, and as I could plainly see he was already suffering agonies of bashfulness I met him half-way (literally as well as metaphorically) and, having said how pleased I was to see him, held out my hand.
He was evidently unprepared for this, and having wiped his own elaborately on his corduroys, he gave it a final polish with his cap before venturing to respond.
A rather awkward pause ensued, which was happily broken by the ladies, who now returned to the room ready to go home, and who all seemed to know Joe very well. While he was answering their questions, I was able to have a good look at him, and I must admit I was disappointed in his appearance.
I had not expected anything heroic or romantic, of course, but, really, Belinda Ann’s betrothed was distressingly plain.
His hair was an unmistakable red, and cropped so short as to suggest his having lately lodged at Her Majesty’s expense. His eyes were a watery grey, with very pink rims and no eyelashes to speak of, and his mouth was so capacious it really quite alarmed you when he yawned, as he did presently with engaging frankness.
He was obviously a good bit younger than the bride-elect, but this is not unusual, and besides Belinda Ann would always have been the leading spirit anyhow.
He was physically smaller, too, being so stunted in growth as to make her look like a young giantess, and a stubbly attempt at a moustache made him seem even more boyish.
By the time I had completed my survey we were all ready to go, and as the other ladies were returning by the Underground, Joe and Belinda offered to escort me to the omnibus.
“Joe’s got two tickets for the Vic. to-morrer night,” Belinda remarked presently.
It seemed to me a pity that Joe should spend his hard-earned and much-needed money on so questionable an amusement, and I ventured to say so, in very delicate language of course.