"
"Rubbish, Major. Try your claret, and see if it's right. And eat your
fish before it gets cold. I'll not treat you again, sir, unless you
try to look happy. Why, you seem as glum as old Conover himself!"
The major was positively beaming.
"Would it look bad for me to kiss you, Patsy?"
"Now?"
"Now and right here in this very room!"
"Of course it would. Try and behave, like the gentleman you are, and
pay attention to your dinner!"
It was a glorious meal. The cost was twenty-five cents a plate, but
the gods never feasted more grandly in Olympus than these two simple,
loving souls in that grimy Duggan street restaurant.
Over his coffee the major gave a sudden start and looked guiltily into
Patricia's eyes.
"Now, then," she said, quickly catching the expression, "out with it."
"It's a letter," said the major. "It came yesterday, or mayhap the day
before. I don't just remember."
"A letter! And who from?" she cried, surprised.
"An ould vixen."
"And who may that be?"
"Your mother's sister Jane. I can tell by the emblem on the flap of
the envelope," said he, drawing a crumpled paper from his breast
pocket.
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