Part 29 (2/2)
”Misunderstood as usual,” said Wally pathetically. ”It really doesn't pay to be like me and have a meek spirit: people only think you are a worm, and trample on you. Come here, Geoff, and take care of me:” and Geoffrey, who adored him, came. ”Have you been riding old Brecon lately?”
”'M!” said Geoffrey, nodding. ”I can canter now!”
”Good man! Any tosses?”
”Well, just one,” Geoffrey admitted. ”He cantered before I had gotted ready, and I fell off. But it didn't hurt.”
”That's right. You practise always falling on a soft spot, and you need never worry.”
”But I'd rather practise sticking on,” said Geoffrey. ”It's nicer.”
”You might practise both,” said Wally. ”You'll have plenty of both, you know.” He laughed at the puzzled face. ”Never mind, old chap.
How are the others, and why aren't they here?”
”They're too little,” Geoffrey said loftily. ”Small childrens don't come in to tea, at least not when there's parties. I came, 'cause Mother says I'm getting 'normous.”
”So you are. Are the others quite well?”
”Oh yes,” Geoffrey answered, clearly regarding the question as foolish. ”They're all right. Alison's got a puppy, and Michael's been eating plate-powder. His mouf was all pink.”
”What's that about my Michael,” demanded Mrs. Hunt. ”Oh yes--we found him making a hearty meal of plate-powder this morning. Douglas says it should make him very bright. I'm thankful to say it doesn't seem to be going to kill him.”
”Michael never will realize that there is a war on,” said Major Hunt, aggrieved. ”I found him gnawing the strap of one of my gaiters the other day.”
”You shouldn't underfeed the poor kid,” said Wally. ”It's clear that he's finding his nourishment when and how he can. Isn't there a Society for dealing with people like you?”
”There is,” said Jim solemnly. ”It's called the Police Force.”
”You're two horrible boys!” said their hostess, laughing. ”And my lovely fat Michael!--he's getting so corpulent he can hardly waddle.
He and the puppy are really very like each other; both of them find it easier to roll than to run.” She cast an inquiring eye round the room: ”Some more tea, Norah?”
”No, thank you, Mrs. Hunt.” Norah's voice sounded strange in her own ears. She wanted to get away from the room, and the light-hearted chatter . . . to make sure, though she was sure already. The guns of France seemed to sound very near her.
The party broke up after a while. Jim and Wally lingered behind the others.
”Will you and the Major come over this evening, Mrs. Hunt? We're off to-morrow.”
”Oh--I'm sorry.” Mrs. Hunt's face fell. ”Poor Norah!”
”Norah will keep smiling,” said Jim. ”But I'm jolly glad you're so near her, Mrs. Hunt. You'll keep an eye on them, won't you? I'd be awfully obliged if you would.”
”You may be very sure I will,” she said. ”And there will be a tremendous welcome whenever you get leave.”
”We won't lose any time in coming for it,” Jim said. ”Blighty means more than ever it did, now that we've got a real home. Then you'll come to-night?”
”Of course we will.” She watched them stride off into the shrubbery, and choked back a sigh.
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