Part 24 (2/2)
”You see this is our wedding-day, that's why I wanted to come,”
continued Mr. Triggs, blinking his eyes, in which there was a suspicious moisture.
”Oh! thank you so much for bringing me,” said Patricia, and she knew as she saw the bright smile with which Mr. Triggs looked at her that she had said the right thing.
”Thirty years and never a cross word,” he murmured. ”She'd 'ave liked you, me dear,” he added; ”she 'ad wonderful instinct, and everybody loved her. 'Ere, but look at me,” he suddenly broke off, ”spoilin'
your afternoon, and you lookin' so tired. Come along,” and Mr. Triggs trotted off in the direction of the seals, who were intimating clearly that they thought that something must be wrong with the official clock.
They were quite ready for their meal.
For two hours Patricia and Mr. Triggs wandered about the Zoo, roving from one group of animals to another, behaving rather like two children who had at last escaped from the bondage of the school-room.
After tea they strolled through Regent's Park, watching the squirrels and talking about the thousand and one things that good comrades have to talk about. Mr. Triggs told something of his early struggles, how his wife had always believed in him and been his helpmate and loyal comrade, how he missed her, and how, when she had died, she had urged him to marry again.
”Sam,” she had said, ”you want a woman to look after you; you're nothing but a great, big baby.”
”And she was right, me dear,” said Mr. Triggs huskily, ”she was right as she always was, only she didn't know that there couldn't ever be anyone after 'er.”
Slowly and tactfully Patricia guided the old man's thoughts away from the sad subject of his wife's death, and soon had him laughing gaily at some stories she had heard the night previously from the Bowens. Mr.
Triggs was as easily diverted from sadness to laughter as a child.
It was half-past seven when they left the Park gates, and Patricia, looking suddenly at her wristlet watch, cried out, ”Oh! I shall be late for dinner, I must fly!”
”You're going to dine with me, me dear,” announced Mr. Triggs.
”Oh, but I can't,” said Patricia; ”I--I----”
”Why can't you?”
”Well, I haven't told Mrs. Craske-Morton.”
”Who's she?” enquired Mr. Triggs.
”Of course it doesn't matter, how stupid of me,” said Patricia; ”I should love to dine with you, Mr. Triggs, if you will let me.”
”That's all right,” said Mr. Triggs, heaving a sigh of relief.
They walked down Portland Place and Regent Street until they reached the Quadrant.
”We'll 'ave dinner in the Grill-room at the Quadrant,” announced Mr.
Triggs, with the air of a man who knows his way about town.
”Oh, no, not there, please!” cried Patricia, in a panic.
”Not there!” Mr. Triggs looked at her, surprise and disappointment in his voice. ”Why not?”
”Oh! I'd sooner not go there if you don't mind. Couldn't we go somewhere else?”
For a moment Mr. Triggs did not reply.
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