ODOUR OF CHRYSANTHEMUMS

engine loomed past the house and came to a stop opposite the
gate.

The engine-driver, a short man with round grey beard,
leaned out of the cab high above the woman.

"I've just come right for a cup of tea," he said in a merry
little fashion.

It was her father. She went in, saying she would mash for
him. Directly, she returned.

"I didn't come and see you on Sunday," began the little
grey-bearded man. "Because ---- "

" I didn't expect you," said his daughter coldly.

The engine-driver winced; then, trying to resume his merry,
airy manner, he said :

"Oh, have you heard then ? Well, and what do you
think ---- ?"

"I think it is soon enough," she replied.

At her brief censure the little man made an impatient
gesture, and said coaxingly, excusing himself :

"Well, what's a man to do ? It's no sort of life living with
strangers, a man of my years. I'm used to sitting on my own
hearth with my own woman. And if I'm going to marry
again it may as well be soon as late -- a few months make no
difference."

The woman did not reply, but turned and went into the
house. The man in the engine-cab stared about in much
discomfort, till she returned with a cup of tea and a piece of
bread and butter on a plate. She went up the steps and stood
near the footplate of the hissing engine.

"You needn't 'a brought me bread an' butter as well," said
her father. "But a cup of tea " -- he sipped appreciatively --
"it's very nice." He sipped for a moment or two, then:
"I hear as Walter's got another bout on," he said.

"I don't know when he hasn't," said the woman bitterly.

"I heered tell of him in the 'Lord Nelson' braggin' as he
was going to spend that b---- afore he went: half a sovereign
that was."

"When ?" asked the woman.

"A' Sat'day night -- an' I know it's true."

"Very likely," she laughed bitterly. "He is doing well --
an' gives me twenty-three shillings. I'd rather have bad times
than good, he hasn't so much to spend."

"It's a crying shame, he wants horsewhipping !" said the
little man. The woman turned her head with weary impatience.
Her father swallowed the last of his tea and handed her the cup.

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