“Well, mother, this be a spread!” cried the soldier, good-humouredly, as he set the child upon her legs.  “I haven’t sat down to such a meal as this since I left old England.  ’Tis fit for a king.”

Mrs. Baverstock rubbed her bony hands together; and laughed deprecatingly.  She was a little woman, with very bright, beady black eyes, and hair that was still coal-black in spite of her wrinkled face.  Her son was like her, but taller and better looking.  One had but to glance at the child to realise that she must be the image of her mother.

“Nay, now,” said the widow; “I do do my best for ‘ee, Dick, but I d’ ’low it bain’t so very grand.  I’d like to do ’ee honour.  There bain’t nothin’ too good for ’ee to my mind, if I could give it ’ee.”

“I tell ’ee, mother, some of the poor chaps out yonder ’ud give summat to sit down to this ‘ere dinner.  Bully beef wi’ a pound or two o’ raw flour, what you haven’t got nothin’ to cook wi’—­it do make a man feel a bit sick, I can tell ’ee, when it do come day arter day.”

“Dear heart alive,” groaned his mother, “a body ’ud think they mid manage a bit better!  Lard, to think on’t!  Tis all along o’ the poor dear Queen bein’ dead, ye mid be sure!  There needs to be a woman at the head o’ things!  I reckon the Government be all made up o’ men folks now, and men never has any notion o’ doin’ for theirselves.  There, I did use to say to father many a time, ’If I was to leave ’ee to yourself I d’ ‘low ye’d go eatin’ any kind o’ rubbish.’  There wants to be a sensible woman or two i’ th’ Government—­no woman ’ud ever think o’ sendin’ out the poor chaps’ bit o’ food raw.  There bain’t a hedger or ditcher but has his bit o’ dinner put ready for en, and I reckon soldiers have got stummicks much same as other folks.”

Dick had only half attended to this speech; he had been standing by the door intently gazing up the village street, and shading his eyes with his hand.

“Why, I’m blowed!” he exclaimed.  “Here’s a mate o’ mine ridin’ this way!  Yes, so it be.  I thought he was goin’ a-coortin’.  Hullo, Billy!”

A bicycle wheeled round abruptly, and the rider alighted at the cottage door.  A big young man, with the bronzed face which would have announced his recent return from the front, even had not his khaki uniform proclaimed the fact.

“I thought I’d look ’ee up,” he explained, shaking hands with his friend with a somewhat sheepish air.  “You and me bein’ mates, d’ye see, and me feelin’ a bit dull over yonder.”

“Why, what’s become o’ she?” interrupted Dick, with a grin.

“Don’t talk about her!  She be just like the rest—­’Out o’ sight out o’ mind’—­took up wi’ a civilian soon as my back were turned.  I reckoned I’d come and have a look at your maid.”

“Yes, to be sure!” cried Dick jovially.  “My sweetheart han’t a-took up wi’ anybody else—­she’ve a-been faithful and true.”

“What’s that?” inquired Mrs. Baverstock, coming forward, her little black eyes looking ready to start from her head.