Ted stretched out his hand and grasped the tempting handle; then,
averting his eyes, he hastily mumbled the prescribed words, burying
his face in the mug immediately after. While he slowly drained its
contents Margaret chanted the last verse of the National Anthem, to a
tune which might possibly have been like "God Save the Queen" if it
had not borne an equal resemblance to "The Dead March in Saul."
Music, we know, has charms to soothe the savage breast, and, whether
because of Margaret's patriotic outburst, or because the beer was of
excellent quality, Ted's face was wreathed in smiles when he set down
the mug.
"Ah," he said, "we'se never ha' no words if ye tackle me this gate.
I'd drink the Queen's 'ealth again if you axed me."
"Enough's good as a feast," returned his hostess sententiously. "It'll
be tay-time afore aught's long."
"Mun I bide for tay?" inquired Ted, with his head on one side.
"Ye can if ye've a mind," said Margaret, accommodatingly. "Ye can be
lookin' round if ye like while I'm gettin' things ready."
Ted complied, nothing loth, and stalked about the place with his
thumbs in his armholes and an air of proprietorship. Everything
without was as snug, neat, and prosperous as everything within. The
garden was well-stocked and weedless; the potatoes seemed to be coming
on nicely; the pig was as fat as a self-respecting pig ought to be,
and the chickens were healthy and well-grown. Ted re-entered the
house, scraping his feet carefully this time, and looking at Margaret
with increased respect as she bustled about. The kettle already sung
merrily on the hob, a plateful of most inviting buttered toast was
keeping warm within the fender, and Miss Hep. was in the act of
placing on the table a smoking dish of nicely-browned sausages.
"I made 'em mysel'," she explained briefly. "I dunnot often have 'em
at this time o' day, but this here's an occasion."
Ted looked blank for a moment, then, suddenly remembering that this
was practically a betrothal-feast, responded heartily, and drew in his
chair to the table with pleased anticipation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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