ON the Sunday after the famous meeting at the Floral Hall, Bill paid a first visit to Strathfieldsaye. He was loth to yield to the will of his father-in-law, but Josiah would take no denial. Corporal Hollis was a stubborn man, but no one under the rank of a field marshal could hope to resist effectively the Mayor of Blackhampton in his second year of office.

Due notice was given by Josiah that he was going personally to fetch Melia on Sunday afternoon. He intended to drive in his car to Love Lane for that purpose. On the way back he would call at the hospital for the Corporal “who must come along up home and drink a dish of tea with Maria.”

The program was not exactly to the taste of Bill, who had little use for tea and perhaps even less use for his “in-laws.” But what could he do in face of the Mayor’s ukase?

Thus it was that in the twilight of a memorable Sunday the Corporal made his first appearance in Strathfieldsaye’s spacious drawing-room. In the past month his leg had surprisingly improved, but final recovery would be long and slow, and he still required two crutches. On entering the room he was a little disconcerted to find so distinguished a company, for in addition to the Mayoress, mutely superb at the tea table, was Mrs. Doctor Cockburn, more vocal in black velvet, Miss Preston, as usual, touched with fashion, and, standing on the hearthrug, near the fire, in her faded khaki was the slight but martial form of Sally.

The presence of Sally was a surprise to the Mayor. He had not expected to see her there, and as soon as his eye lit on her he gave a start. First of all, however, he shepherded the Corporal into a comfortable chair with a tenderness hard to credit in him, fixing up the injured leg on a second chair and laying the crutches on the carpet by the Corporal’s side.

Having done all this, the Mayor moved up to the hearthrug, his hand outstretched. “Very glad to see you here, my gel.” Without hesitation and in the frankest way he kissed Sally loudly upon the cheek. It was manly and it was also bold, for such an act seemed perilously like kissing in public a decidedly soldierlike young man.

Sally didn’t seem to mind, however. She was just as frank and unaffected as her father. Moreover, she had acquired a rich laugh and an authority of manner almost the equal of his own. She complimented him upon his speech and quizzically added that he ought to stand for Parliament. Josiah promptly rejoined that if he did he’d be as much use as some of those jackasses, no doubt.

The Mayor then carried a cup of tea to the Corporal and Aunt Gerty provided him with bread and butter and a plate to put it on; and then Sally moved across from the chimneypiece, sat down very simply on a hassock by his side and began at once to talk to him. Plain, direct talk it was, full of technical turns and queer out-of-the-way information which could have only come from the most intimate first-hand knowledge. But it was palpably unstudied, without the least wish to pose or impress, and presently with almost the same air of blunt modesty the Corporal began talking to her.

To Mrs. Doctor and even to Miss Preston it seemed rather odd that a real live graduate of Heaven-knew-where should sit tÊte-À-tÊte with poor Melia’s husband and be completely absorbed by him and the crude halting syllables he emitted from time to time. Still to the Mayor himself, standing with his broad back to the fire and toying like a large but domesticated wolf with a buttered scone, it didn’t seem so remarkable.

Josiah, at any rate, was able to perceive that his youngest daughter and his son-in-law were occupied with realities. They had been through the fire. Battle, murder, death in every unspeakable form had been their companions months on end. These two were full-fledged Initiates in an exclusive Order.

The Mayor, foursquare on the hearthrug, had never seemed more at home in the family circle, but, even his noble self-assurance abated a feather or two out of deference to Sally and the Corporal. They had been there. They knew. If Josiah had respect for anything it was for actual first-hand experience.

Mrs. Doctor, however, was not fettered by the vanities of hero worship. In spite of Sally and in spite of the Corporal she was able as usual to bring her light tea table artillery into play. At strategic intervals her high-pitched, authoritative voice took spasmodic charge of the proceedings. Now it was the Egg Fund and the incompetence of Lady Jope, now the latest dicta of Miss Heber-Knollys, now the widespread complaints of the Duke’s inaudibility at the Floral Hall.

Miss Preston fully agreed. “So different from you, Josiah.” She was well on the target as usual. “But he made up for it, didn’t he, by the nice things he said of you when he opened the Annex?”

“Very flattering, wasn’t he?” Mrs. Doctor took up the ball. “And wasn’t it charming of him to come here to lunch. Such an unaffected man!”

Josiah broke his scone in half and held a piece in each hand. “Why shouldn’t he come here?” The voice had the old huffiness, yet mitigated now by an undeniable twinkle of humor. “He got quite as good food here as he’d get at home, even if we don’t run to gold plate and flunkeys.”

“Quite, Josiah, quite,” piped the undefeated Gerty. “And only too glad, I’m sure, to come and see the Mayor of Blackhampton.”

The laugh of his worship verged upon the whimsical. “Gert, if you want my private opinion, he didn’t come to see me at all.”

“Pray, then, Father, who did he come to see?” fluted Mrs. Doctor.

Josiah jerked a humorous thumb in the direction of Sally, who was still tÊte-À-tÊte with the Corporal.

“Nonsense, Father.”

“Well, it’s my opinion.”

It was hard for Mrs. Doctor to believe that her youngest sister could be the attraction. But her father was clear upon the point. And that being the case it made the pity all the greater that Sally had declined the invitation to be present. She had been urged to come to luncheon and meet the Duke who was anxious to meet her, but she had preferred to stay at Park Crescent and play with the children.

So like her!

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