Adventures of Bindle

As they said good night at Earl's Court Station, Charlie Dixon going on to Hammersmith, Millie whispered to him, "It's been such a wonderful evening, Charlie dear;" then rather dreamily she added, "The most wonderful evening I've ever known. Good-bye, darling; I'll write to-morrow."

"And you will, Millie?" enquired Charlie Dixon eagerly.

She turned away towards the incoming Putney train, then looking over her shoulder nodded her head shyly, and ran forward to join Bindle, who was standing at the entrance of a first-class carriage.

As she entered the carriage Bindle stepped back to Charlie Dixon.

"You jest make all your plans, young feller," he said. "Let me know the day an' she'll be there."

Charlie Dixon gripped Bindle's hand. Bindle winced and drew up one leg in obvious pain at the heartiness of the young lover's grasp.

"There are times, young feller, when I wish I was your enemy," he said as he gazed ruefully at his knuckles. "Your friendship 'urts like 'ell."

CHAPTER XIV

MR. HEARTY YIELDS

"Gawd started makin' a man, an' then, sort o' losin' interest, 'E made 'Earty. That's wot I think o' your brother-in-law, Mrs. B."

Mrs. Bindle paused in the operation of lifting an iron from the stove and holding its face to her cheek to judge as to its degree of heat. There was a note of contemptuous disgust in Bindle's voice that was new to her.

"You always was jealous of him," she remarked, rubbing a piece of soap on the face of the iron and polishing it vigorously upon a small square of well-worn carpet kept for that purpose. "'E's got on and you haven't, and there's an end of it;" and she brought down the iron fiercely upon a pillow-case.

"Wot d'you think 'e's done now?" demanded Bindle, as he went to the sink and filled a basin for his evening "rinse." Plunging his face into the water, with much puffing and blowing he began to lather it with soapy hands. He had apparently entirely forgotten his question.

"Well, what is it?" enquired Mrs. Bindle at length, too curious longer to remain quiet.

Bindle turned from the sink, soap-suds forming a rim round his face and filling his tightly-shut eyes. He groped with hands extended towards the door behind which hung the roller-towel. Having polished his face to his entire satisfaction, he walked towards the door leading into the passage.

"Well, what's he done now?" demanded Mrs. Bindle again with asperity.

"'E says Millikins ain't goin' to marry Charlie Dixon." There was anger in Bindle's voice.

"You're a nice one," commented Mrs. Bindle, "Always sneerin' at marriage, an' now you're blaming Mr. Hearty because he won't – "

"Well, I'm blowed!" Bindle wheeled round, his good-humour re-asserting itself, "I 'adn't thought o' that."

Having cleared away her ironing, Mrs. Bindle threw the white tablecloth over the table with an angry flourish.

"Now ain't that funny!" continued Bindle, as if highly amused at Mrs. Bindle's discovery. "Now ain't that funny!" he repeated.

"Seems to amuse you," she retorted acidly.

"It does, Mrs. B.; you've jest 'it it. One o' the funniest things I ever come across. 'Ere's me a-tellin' everybody about this chamber of 'orrors wot we call marriage, an' blest if I ain't a-tryin' to shove poor ole Charlie Dixon in an' shut the door on 'im." Bindle grinned expansively.

"Supper'll be ready in five minutes," said Mrs. Bindle with indrawn lips.

"Right-o!" cried Bindle as he made for the door. "I'm goin' to get into my uniform before I 'ops around to see 'Earty. It's wonderful wot a bit o' blue cloth and a peak cap'll do with a cove like 'Earty, specially when I 'appens to be inside. Yes! Mrs. B.," he repeated as he opened the door, "you're right; it does amuse me," and he closed the door softly behind him. Mrs. Bindle expressed her thoughts upon the long-suffering table-appointments.

When Bindle returned in his uniform, supper was ready. For some time the meal proceeded in silence.

"Funny thing," he remarked at length, "I can swallow most things from stewed-steak to 'alf-cooked 'ymns, but 'Earty jest sticks in my gizzard."

"You're jealous, that's what you are," remarked Mrs. Bindle with conviction.

"A man wot could be jealous of 'Earty." said Bindle, "ain't safe to be let out, only on a chain. Why don't 'e try an' bring a little 'appiness down 'ere instead o' sayin' it's all in 'eaven, with you an' 'im a-sittin' on the lid. Makes life like an 'addock wot's been rejooced in price, it does."

"What are you goin' to say to Mr. Hearty?" enquired Mrs. Bindle suspiciously.

"Well," remarked Bindle, "that depends rather on wot 'Earty's goin' to say to me."

"You've no right to interfere in his affairs."

"You're quite right, Mrs. B.," remarked Bindle, "that's wot makes it so pleasant. I 'aven't no right to punch 'Earty's 'ead; but one of these days I know I shall do it. Never see an 'ead in all my life wot looked so invitin' as 'Earty's. Seems to be crying-out to be punched, it does."

"You didn't ought to go round upsetting him," said Mrs. Bindle aggressively. "He's got enough troubles."

"'E's goin' to 'ave another to-night, Mrs. B.; an' if 'e ain't careful, 'e'll probably 'ave another to-morrow night."

Mrs. Bindle banged the lid on a dish.

"You ain't against them kids a-gettin' married, are you?" Bindle demanded. "You used to be sort of fond of Millikins."

"No! I'm not against it; but I'm not goin' to interfere in Mr. Hearty's affairs," said Mrs. Bindle virtuously.

"Well, I am," said Bindle grimly, as he rose and reached for his cap. A moment later he left the room, whistling cheerily.

At the Heartys' house Millie opened the door.

"Oh, Uncle Joe!" she cried, "I wondered whether you would come."

"Course I'd come, Millikins," said Bindle. "Now you jest run and tell your father that I want to 'ave a little talk with 'im in the drawing-room, then you'll turn on the light an' be'ave as if I was a real lemonade-swell."

Millie smiled tremulously and led the way upstairs. Ushering Bindle into the drawing-room, she switched on the light and went out, gently closing the door behind her.

Five minutes later Mr. Hearty entered. From the movement of his fingers, it was obvious that he was ill at ease.

"'Ullo, 'Earty!" said Bindle genially.

"Good evening, Joseph," responded Mr. Hearty.

"Trade good?" enquired Bindle conversationally.

"Quite good, thank you, Joseph," was the response.

"Goin' to open any more shops?" was the next question.

Mr. Hearty shook his head.