in the Army! I don't care
for anything now. By gad, I can't believe it. I'm in the war at last!"
His terrific thought was, "Good luck have thee with thine honour; ride
on ... and thy right hand shall show thee terrible things."

He burst into the house and discharged the torrent of his elation on to
Mabel. "I say, I'm in the Army. They've passed me. Look here! Look at my
Derby armlet! And look at this. That's my pay! Just look, Mabel--two and
eightpence."

He extended the coins to her in his hand. "Look!"

She gave her sudden burst of laughter. "How perfectly ridiculous! Two
and eightpence! Whyever did you take it?"

"Take it? Why, it's my pay. My army pay. I've never been so proud of
anything in my life. I'll keep these coins forever. Where shall I put
them?" He looked around for a shrine worthy enough. "No, I can't put
them anywhere yet. I want to keep looking at them. I say, you're glad
I'm in, aren't you? Do say something."

She gave her laugh. "But you're not in. You do get so fearfully excited.
After all, it's only this Lord Derby thing where they call the men up in
age classes, the papers say. Yours can't come for months. You may not go
at all."

He dropped the coins slowly into his pocket,--chink, chink, chink. "Oh,
well, if that's all you've got to say about it."

"Well, what do you expect? You just come rushing in and telling me
without ever having said a word that you were going. And for that matter
you seem to forget the extraordinary way in which you went off this
morning. I haven't."

"I had forgotten. I was upset. I went off, I know; but I don't
remember--"

"No, you only swore at me; that's all."

"Mabel, I'm sure I didn't."

"You bawled out, 'For God's sake.' I call that swearing. I don't mind.
It's not particularly nice for the servants to hear, but I'm not saying
anything about that."

His brows were puckered up. "What is it you are saying?"

"I'm simply saying that, behaving like that, it's not quite fair to
pretend that I'm not enthusiastic enough for you about this Lord Derby
thing. It isn't as if you were really in the Army--"

He wished not to speak, but he could not let this go. "But I _am_ in."

"Yes, but not properly in--yet. And perhaps you won't ever be. It
doesn't seem like being in to me. That's all I'm saying. Surely there's
no harm in that?"

He was at the window staring out into the garden. "No, there's no _harm_
in it."

"Well, then. What are we arguing about it