"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 pa.s.sage.

"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-a.s.serting 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.

Bindle sucked contentedly at his pipe.

"Won't you sit down, 'Earty?" he asked solicitously.

Mr. Hearty sat down mechanically, then, a moment later, rose to his feet.

"Now, 'Earty," said Bindle, "you and me are goin' to 'ave a little talk about Millikins."

Mr. Hearty stiffened visibly.

"I--I don't understand," he said.

"You jest wait a minute, 'Earty, an' you'll understand a rare lot. Now are you, or are you not, goin' to let them kids get married?"

"Most emphatically not," said Mr. Hearty with decision. "Millie is too young; she's not twenty yet."

"Now ain't you jest tiresome, 'Earty. 'Ere 'ave I been arrangin' for the weddin' for next Toosday, and you go and say it ain't comin' orf; you should 'ave told me this before."

"But Millie only asked me this morning," protested Mr. Hearty, whose literalness always placed him at a disadvantage with Bindle.

"Did she really?" remarked Bindle. "Dear me! an' she knew she was goin' to get married last night. Never could understand women," he remarked, shaking his head hopelessly.