Part 20 (1/2)
”Did you? Now that was something like a dream! What sort of husband did I make?”
”I don't know. You see the dream didn't last long enough.”
”That was a bad job! Because if you had liked me in the dream, you might have married me later on.”
”I thought that.” She spoke quite gravely. ”But you see I know I should like you as a husband.”
”I am glad you think that.”
”Who asks? Do you say to me 'marry me,' or do I say to you 'marry me'?”
”M'well, that depends. I really don't think it would matter much; which ever way you like best.”
”Of course, you would marry me if I asked you? What do I have to do--kneel down, like the Prince in Cinderella?”
”That is the really proper way, of course. But if you have a very pretty pinafore on it would be a pity, wouldn't it? Then I think you could manage without kneeling.”
”I see. I could put on my black dress, though. It's got some sticky stuff I spilt down the front.”
”But I am afraid before this marriage takes place you will have to grow a little older.”
”Of course!”
She essayed a laugh. The mother p.r.i.c.ked up her ears: it was the first time the sound of laughter had come from those lips for many an hour; the child continued:
”You don't think I am so silly as to think I can be married in short frocks, do you? What an old goose you are! Of course, I mean when I am bigger and wear a train.”
”I see. Do you think the black dress will grow too?”
”N--no. I forgot that--that's my fault. But you promised.”
”Why certainly. I most cheerfully promise that I will marry you, if you ask me when you are a big girl.”
”A real, real promise?”
”A most really, real, realiest of real promises. If you ask me when you are a big girl, to marry you, I promise you I will.”
She sighed contentedly. Nestling to him, closed her eyelids as she said:
”People go away for honey-dews, don't they?”
He smiled. Gathered that she had confused names by reading the label on his tobacco packet. She had seen him fill his pouch, and clamoured for the silver paper to make impressions of coins on. To her huge satisfaction had more than once induced him to pick up her coinage in the belief that they were real.
”Yes,” he answered. ”It is usual for married persons to go away. We must consider where we will spend our honeymoon. You have been to the Hippodrome, haven't you?”
Her eyes opened; sparkled at the recollection. The dustmen were banished for a moment as she answered:
”Twice! That's where I saw Cinderella!”
”That wouldn't be altogether a bad place for a honeymoon, would it? Then there's the Zoo--how about that?”