d aimlessly against a
barbed wire, taking very good care not to get too close to it himself.
Jim came to himself just in time to save his leg from a prod from the
spikes.

"Chiniquy, Chiniquy," he said gravely, "I understand now something of
the hatred the French bear your illustrious namesake. But no matter
what the man's sins may have been, surely he did not deserve to have a
little flea-bitten, mangey, treacherous, mouse-coloured deceiver like
you named for him."

When Camilla had read Pearl's letter to Mr. and Mrs. Francis, the
latter was all emotion. How splendid of her, so sympathetic, so full of
the true inwardness of Christian love, and the sweet message of the
poppy, the emblem of sleep, so prophetic of that other sleep that knows
no waking! Is it not a pagan thought, that? What tender recollections
they will bring the poor sufferer of her far away, happy childhood home!

Mrs. Francis's face was shining with emotion as she spoke. Then she
became dreamy.

"I wonder is her soul attune to the melodies of life, and will she feel
the love vibrations of the ether?"

Mr. Francis had noiselessly left the room when Camilla had finished her
rapid explanation. He returned with his little valise in his hand.

He stood a moment irresolutely looking, in his helpless dumb way, at
his wife, who was so beautifully expounding the message of the flowers.

Camilla handed him the box. She understood.

Mrs. Francis noticed the valise in her husband's hand.

"How very suddenly you make up your mind, James," she said. "Are you
actually going away on the train to-night? Really James, I believe I
shall write a little sketch for our church paper. Pearl's
thoughtfulness has moved me, James. It really has touched me deeply. If
you were not so engrossed in business, James, I really believe it would
move you; but men are so different from us, Camilla. They are not so
soulful. Perhaps it is just as well, but really sometimes, James, I
fear you give business too large a place in your life. It is all
business, business, business."

Mrs. Francis opened her desk, and drawing toward her her gold pen and
dainty letter paper, began her article.

Camilla followed Mr. Francis into the hall, and helped him to put on
his overcoat. She handed him his hat with something like reverence in
her manner.

"You are upon the King's business to-night," she said, with shining
eyes, as she opened the door for him.

He opened his mouth as if to spea