Page:The Prussian officer, and other stories, Lawrence, 1914.djvu/83

 “I do not see,” he retorted at last, white at the gills and inadequate, “that the Queen’s service is any more to be called slavery than working in a mine.”

“At home he was at home, and his own master. I know he’ll find a difference.”

“It may be the making of him,” said the clergyman. “It will take him away from bad companionship and drink.”

Some of the Durants’ sons were notorious drinkers, and Alfred was not quite steady.

“And why indeed shouldn’t he have his glass?” cried the mother. “He picks no man’s pocket to pay for it!”

The clergyman stiffened at what he thought was an allusion to his own profession, and his unpaid bills.

“With all due consideration, I am glad to hear he has joined the Navy,” he said.

“Me with my old age coming on, and his father working very little! I’d thank you to be glad about something else besides that, Mr. Lindley.”

The woman began to cry. Her husband, quite impassive, finished his lunch of meat-pie, and drank some beer. Then he turned to the fire, as if there were no one in the room but himself.

“I shall respect all men who serve God and their country on the sea, Mrs. Durant,” said the clergyman stubbornly.

“That is very well, when they’re not your sons who are doing the dirty work.—It makes a difference,” she replied tartly.