CHAPTER XXI
CONCLUSION
"So 'Earty comes round in the mornin' an' says 'e's sorry, an'Millikins she be'aves jest like a little princess, 'oldin' 'er 'ead as'igh as 'igh, an' agrees to go back, an' everybody lives 'appy everafter, everybody 'cept me. Since that night Mrs. B. 'as given mepickles. I don't understand it," he added in a puzzled way; "seems asif she's sort of 'uffy cause she dripped a bit."
"I think that is what it must be," remarked Mrs. Dick Little. "Youmust be gentle with her."
"Gentle! You don't know Mrs. B., miss, I mean mum. When Mrs. B.'s atone end o' the broom an' you're within range o' the dust she raises,it's nippy you got to be, not gentle."
Mrs. Little laughed.
It was a fortnight after the events at Mr. Hearty's house that had ledup to Millie's leaving home, and Bindle was seated with the Littles intheir new flat in Chelsea Palace Mansions.
"Yes," continued Bindle, after a pause, "them two love-birds isengaged, and Charlie Dixon's enlisted, an' Millie's as proud as an 'enwot's laid an egg. 'Earty's a different man; but it's Mrs. B. wot doesme. She'd take the edge orf a chisel. Gentle! I'd like to meet theman 'oo'd got the pluck to try it on wi' Mrs. B." And Bindle laughedgood-humouredly.
"An' to think," continued Bindle, looking quizzically from Dick Littleto his wife, "to think that I 'elped you two to get tied up."
Mrs. Little laughed gaily, and Bindle drank deeply of a large glass ofale at his elbow.
"I'm afraid you're a terrible misogynist, Mr. Bindle," said Mrs. Little.
"A wot, mum?" queried Bindle, with corrugated brow.
"A woman-hater," explained Little.
"There you're wrong, mum, if yer'll allow me to say so; I don' 'atewomen."
"But," persisted Mrs. Little, "you are always suggesting how happy theworld would be without us."
Bindle removed his cigar from his mouth and, bending forward towardsMrs. Little, remarked impressively, "You got 'old o' the wrong end o'the stick, mum. I ain't got nothink to say agin women. I likes theladies."
"But," broke in Little, "didn't you solemnly warn me, Bindle? Now ownup."
"That's quite correct," replied Bindle, with undisturbed composure. "Idid as I would like a mate to do by me, I jest put up me 'and like an'said, 'Dangerous crossin' 'ere,' same as they do for motors."
"But you say you are not a woman-hater; I don't understand." Mrs.Little screwed up her pretty face in what Little regarded as a mostprovoking manner.
"Well, mum, you're sort o' mixin' up women an' wives. I ain't gotnothink to say against women provided they don't marry yer. When theydo they seems to change." Bindle paused, then with unconsciousphilosophy added, "P'r'aps it's because they find out all about yer."
The silence that ensued was broken by Bindle. "I s'pose," he saidthoughtfully, "I'd sort o' miss my little bit of 'eaven if anythink wosto 'appen to 'er. Fancy goin' 'ome an' no one there to say, 'Got ajob?'"
There was a note in Bindle's voice which constrained Little and hiswife to silence. After a minute's pause he added:
"It can't be all 'oney livin' with an 'eathen such as me."
For fully five minutes no one spoke. It was again Bindle who broke thesilence.
"It was you, sir, o' course, wot played that little game on 'Earty?"
"What, the Theodore Hook joke?" enquired Little.
Bindle looked puzzled. "I mean the dogs an' 'ousekeepers an' orphans.I felt sorry for 'Earty then." And Bindle laughed in spite of himself.
"It was a cruel jest, whoever played it," said Mrs. Little withdecision; and looking meaningly at her husband she added, "I hope Ishall never know who did it, or I should speak very bluntly."
Dick Little looked uncomfortable, and Bindle created a diversion byrising.
"Well, I must be 'oppin' it," he remarked genially. "I enjoyed thislittle talk."
Dick Little preceded him into the hall. Bindle stepped back into theroom.
"Miss--mum, I mean," he said awkwardly, "you ain't inclined to bereligious, are yer?"
There was such earnestness in his voice that Mrs. Little checked thelaugh that was upon her lips.
"No, Mr. Bindle, I'm afraid I'm not at all a good person."
Bindle heaved a sigh of relief. "Then 'e's got a sportin' chance," hemuttered, half to himself. "Good-night, mum." And Bindle closed thedoor behind him.
"Well, Ettie," said Dick Little, as he re-entered the room, "what doyou think of J. B.? Not a bad sort of fellow, eh?"
"Dick, I think he's a perfect dear."
And Dick Little expressed entire concurrence with his wife's view in away that young husbands have.
THE END