Echoes of the War Part 27

'That's the card. We used to call him Jemima, because he and his mother were both caught crying when lock-up struck, and she had to clear out.'

'She was very fond of him, d.i.c.k.'

'Oh, I expect no end. Tell her he's killed.'

'She knows.'

'She had got a wire. That isn't the joke, though. You see he got into a hopeless muddle about which side of the veil he had come out on; and he went off with the other ones, and they wouldn't have him, and he got lost in the veil, running up and down it, calling to us; and just for the lark we didn't answer.' He chuckles, 'I expect he has become a ghost!' With sudden consideration, 'Best not tell his mother that.'

Mr. Don rises, wincing, and d.i.c.k also is at once on his feet, full of compunction.

'Was that shabby of me? Sorry, father. We are all pretty young, you know, and we can't help having our fun still.'

'I'm glad you still have your fun,' the father says, once more putting his hands on d.i.c.k's shoulders. 'Let me look at you again, d.i.c.k. There is such a serenity about you now.'

'Serenity, that's the word! None of us could remember what the word was.

It's a ripping good thing to have. I should be awfully bucked if you would have it, too.'

'I'll try.'

'I say, how my tongue runs on! But, after all, it was my show. Now, you tell me some things.'

'What about, d.i.c.k? The war?'

'No,' almost in a shout. 'We have a fine for speaking about the war. And you know, those fellows we were fighting--I forget who they were?'

'The Germans.'

'Oh yes. Some of them were on the same side of the veil with us, and they were rather decent; so we chummed up in the end and Ockley took us all away together. They were jolly lucky in getting Ockley. There I go again! Come on, it's your turn. Has the bathroom tap been mended yet?'

'I'm afraid it is--just tied up with that string still, d.i.c.k. It works all right.'

'It only needs two screw-nails, you know.'

'I'll see to it.'

'Do you know whether any one at my tutors got his fives choice this half?'

'I'm sorry, d.i.c.k, but----'

'Or who is the captain of the boats?'

'No, I----'

'Whatever have you been doing?' He is moving about the room. 'Hullo, here's mother's work-box! Is mother all right?'

'Very sad about you, d.i.c.k.'

'Oh, I say, that isn't fair. Why doesn't she cheer up?'

'It isn't so easy, my boy.'

'It's pretty hard lines on me, you know.'

'How is that?'

'If you are sad, I have to be sad. That's how we have got to work it off. You can't think how we want to be bright.'

'I'll always remember that, and I'll tell your mother. Ah, but she won't believe me, d.i.c.k; you will have to tell her yourself.'

'I can't do that, father. I can only come to one.'

'She should have been the one; she loved you best, d.i.c.k.'

'Oh, I don't know. Do you ever,' with a slight hesitation, 'see Laura now?'

'She is staying with us at present.'

'Is she? I think I should like to see her.'

'If Laura were to see you----'

'Oh, she wouldn't see me. She is not dressed in black, is she?'

'No, in white.'

'Good girl! I suppose mother is in black?'

'Surely, d.i.c.k.'

'It's too bad, you know.'

'You weren't exactly--engaged to Laura, were you, d.i.c.k?' A bold question from a father, but the circ.u.mstances were unusual. Apologetically, 'I never rightly knew.'

'No!' d.i.c.k has flung back his head again. Confidentially, 'Father, I sometimes thought of it, but it rather scared me! I expect that is about how it was with her, too.'

'She is very broken about you now.'

Irritated, 'Oh, hang!'

'Would you like her to forget you, d.i.c.k?'

'Rather not. But she might help a fellow a bit. Hullo!'

What calls forth this exclamation, is the little table at which the seance had taken place. The four chairs are still standing round it, as if they were guarding something.

'Here's something new, father; this table.'