Miss Ward sighed. "Wait till father comes in," she said.
Mr. Farrer peered through the plants which formed a welcome screen to
the window and listened with some uneasiness. He was waiting for the
firm, springy step that should herald the approach of ex-Sergeant-Major
Ward. A squeeze of Miss Ward's hand renewed his courage.
"Perhaps I had better light the lamp," said the girl, after a long
pause. "I wonder where mother's got to?"
"She's on my side, at any rate," said Mr. Farrer.
"Poor mother!" said the girl. "She daren't call her soul her own. I
expect she's sitting in her bedroom with the door shut. She hates
unpleasantness. And there's sure to be some."
"So do I," said the young man, with a slight shiver. "But why should
there be any? He doesn't want you to keep single all your life, does
he?"
"He'd like me to marry a soldier," said Miss Ward. "He says that the
young men of the present day are too soft. The only thing he thinks
about is courage and strength."
She rose and, placing the lamp on the table, removed the chimney, and
then sought round the room for the matches. Mr. Farrer, who had two
boxes in his pocket, helped her.
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