"Do my eyes look wet?" she inquired, feeling in my pocket for my
handkerchief.
Kitty has large grey eyes. Once, during the most desperate period of our
courtship, I referred to them as "twin lakes"--an indiscretion which
their owner, in her less generous moments, still casts up to me. But
to-night the territory surrounding them presented a distinct appearance
of inundation. I continued to gaze. I thought of last night's ceaseless
vigil and to-day's long-drawn battle. My wife had borne the brunt of
all, and I had grudged her a few tears! My heart smote me.
"Kit!" I said suddenly; "poor Kit!"...
We were interrupted by the opening of the door and the entrance of what
I at first took to be a chimney-sweep's apprentice, but which proved to
be my brother-in-law, with evidence of electoral strenuousness written
thick upon him.
"Hallo, you two!" he remarked genially. Then, noticing our
unconventional economy of sitting-space--"Sorry! I didn't know. I
thought you'd given up that sort of thing years ago!"