'Not now; I'll read them when I'm alone.'
'Don't mind me.'
'It's silly of me; but letters from England always make me cry.'
'Nora! Then you aren't happy here.'
'Why shouldn't I be?'
'Then why haven't you written to me but once since you were married?'
'I hadn't anything to say. And then,' carrying the war into the enemy's quarter, 'I'd been practically turned out of your house.'
'I don't know what to make of you. Frank Taylor's kind to you and all that sort of thing, isn't he?'
'Very. But don't cross-examine me, there's a dear.'
'When I asked you to come and make your home with me, I thought it mightn't be long before you married. But I didn't expect you to marry one of the hired men.'
'Oh, my dear, please don't worry about me.' Nora was about at the end of her endurance.
'It's all very fine to say that; but you've got no one in the world belonging to you except me.'
'Don't, I tell you.'
'Nora!'
'Now listen. We've never quarreled once since the first day I came here. Now are you satisfied?'
She said it bravely, but it was with a feeling of unspeakable relief that she saw Reggie Hornby at the door.
She certainly had never before been so genuinely glad to see him. As she smilingly held out her hand, her eye took in his changed appearance. Gone were the overalls and the flannel shirt, the heavy boots and broad belt. Before her stood the Reggie of former days in a well-cut suit of blue serge and spotless linen. She was surprised to find herself thinking, after all, men looked better in flannels.
'I was wondering what on earth you were doing with yourself,' she said gayly.
'I say,' he said, his eye taking in the bright little room, 'this is a swell shack you've got.'
'I've tried to make it look pretty and homelike.'
'Helloa, what's this!' said Marsh, whose eye had fallen for the first time on the bowl of flowers.
'Aren't they pretty? I've only just picked them. They're mustard flowers.'
'We call them weeds. Have you much of it?'
'Oh, yes; lots. Why?'
'Oh, nothing.'
'Eddie tells me you're going home.'
'Yes,' said Reggie, seating himself and carefully pulling up his trousers. 'I'm fed up for my part with God's own country. Nature never intended me to be an agricultural laborer.'
'No? And what are you going to do now?'
'Loaf!' Mr. Hornby's tone expressed profound conviction.
'Won't you get bored?' smiled Nora.
'I'm never bored. It amuses me to watch other people do things. I should hate my fellow-creatures to be idle.'
'I should think one could do more with life than lounge around clubs and play cards with people who don't play as well as oneself.'
Hornby gave her a quick ironic look. 'I quite agree with you,' he said with his most serious air. 'I've been thinking things over very seriously this winter. I'm going to look out for a middle-aged widow with money who'll adopt me.'
