'All right.'

But she had spoken too late. As her husband, having handed over two suit
cases to Mrs. Weston's fourteen-year old boy, came towards her with a
large brown paper parcel, the string of it slipped, Mrs. Sarratt gave a
little cry, and but for her prompt rush to his assistance, its contents
would have descended into the road. But through a gap in the paper
various tin and china objects were disclosed.

'That's your "cooker," Nelly,' said her husband laughing. 'I told you it
would bust the show!'

But her tiny, deft fingers rapidly repaired the damage, and re-tied the
string while he assisted her. The coach drove off, and Sir William
patiently held the bag. Then she insisted on carrying the parcel
herself, and the lieutenant relieved Sir William.

'Awfully obliged to you!' he said gratefully. 'Good evening! We're
stopping here for a bit' He pointed to the open door of the
lodging-house, where Mrs. Weston and the boy were grappling with the
luggage.

'May I ask--' Sir William's smile as he looked from one to the other
expressed that loosening of conventions in which we have all lived since
the war--'Are you home on leave, or--'

'I came home to be married,' said the young soldier, flushing slightly,
while his eyes crossed those of the young girl beside him. 'I've got a
week more.'