Page:The Story of the Gadsbys - Kipling (1888).djvu/56



CENE.—''Thymy grass-plot at back of the Mahasu rest-house, overlooking little wooded valley. On the left, glimpse of the Dead Forest of Fagoo; on the right, Simla Hills. In background, line of the Snows. Captain Gadsby, now one week a husband, is smoking the pipe of peace on a rug in the sunshine. Banjo and tobacco-pouch on rug. Overhead, the Fagoo eagles. Mrs. G. comes out of the house.''

—My husband!

(lazily, with intense enjoyment).—Eh, wha-at? Say that again.

—I've written to Mamma and told her that we shall be back on the seventeenth.

—Did you give her my love?

—No, I kept all that for myself. (Sitting down by his side.) I thought you wouldn't mind.

(with mock sternness).—I object awf'ly. How did you know that it was yours to keep?

—I guessed, Phil.

(rapturously).—Lit-tle Featherweight!

—I won't be called those sporting pet names, bad boy.

—You'll be called anything I choose. Has it ever occurred to you, Madam, that you are my Wife?

—It has. I haven't ceased wondering at it yet.

—Nor I. It seems so strange; and yet, somehow, it doesn't. (Confidently.) You see, it could have been no one else.

(softly).—No. No one else—for me or for you. It must have been all arranged from the beginning. Phil, tell me again what made you care for me.