Part 22 (1/2)

”He may be a grand lad,” retorted her husband, ”and I don't deny that he has behaved vary weel, but how can he keep a wife? What sort of a home can he give our Alice?”

”A lad that can do what he has done,” replied Mrs. Lister, ”will make his way anywhere. If G.o.d spares his life, he will come back when the war's over, and you will not have any reason to be ashamed of him. He is not earning any bra.s.s now, and that's right, for he's serving his King and Country, and doing his duty like a man; but wait till we have licked the Germans, then Tom will let you know.”

”I don't deny that he's a sharp, capable lad,” said George, ”and it's easy to see that our Alice is fair gone on him. That's why she had nowt to do wi' the young parson, and wi' Harry Briarfield. Well, I want Alice to be happy, and marriage without love is a poor thing, however much bra.s.s you may have. 'Appen I can put Tom in the way of getting on when the war's over. Ay, he's a grand lad, as you say, and it was real plucky the way he nabbed that German spy and got the papers. No wonder the King thinks such a lot of him.”

Upon this George Lister filled his pipe slowly, and there was a look of pride in his eyes.

As for Alice, she sobbed for very joy when she went to her room that night. ”Oh, thank G.o.d, thank G.o.d,” cried her heart, ”and he is coming early in the morning too!”

”Well, mother,” said Tom when he reached home, ”I have made it up with Alice Lister.”

”Tha' never ses!” and Mrs. Pollard's voice was very caressing. ”That's one for Polly Powell, anyhow. She wur never thy sort, Tom--a la.s.s wi'

a mother like that can never be ony good.”

”Ay, and she's the finest la.s.s i' Brunford, is Alice Lister,” said Ezekiel contentedly; ”and is she willing to wait for thee, Tom?”

Tom laughed joyfully.

”Maybe they will make an officer of thee,” said Mrs. Pollard.

”No,” said Tom, ”I shall never be an officer, I don't belong to that cla.s.s; perhaps I will be a sergeant, or something like that, but that's as may be; anyhow, I'll do my bit.”

When Tom's leave was up, George Lister said he had business in London, so Alice accompanied him. Truth to tell, the business which George had was only a secondary matter; he saw that Alice wanted to accompany her lover as far as she could, and the business was a pretext. I also made my way to Waterloo Station to see Tom off; that was only a few days ago, and what I saw and heard is fresh in my memory. But however long I may live, I shall never forget the look in Tom's eyes as he stood on the platform with Alice by his side. A great light was burning there, the light of love, and duty, and faith, and chastened joy.

”Don't fear, Alice,” said the lad, ”I will come back again all right.”

”You--you are sure you will take care of yourself, Tom,” and Alice's voice was husky, although she was evidently making a great effort to be brave.

”Ay, that I will,” said Tom.

Crowds of soldiers thronged the platform, while hundreds of their friends who came to see them off made it difficult to move; many of the Tommies were shouting and cheering, while others found their way into the carriages as if anxious to be quiet.

”They seem splendid fellows,” said Alice, ”but some of them are very rough, aren't they?”