fic verities of
fatigue, suffering, bodily danger--beloved life and staggering death.'

For Roy, Cavalry was a matter of course. In the saddle, even Jane could
find no fault with him; little guessing that, in his genius for
horsemanship, he was Rajput to the marrow. His compact, nervous make,
strong thigh and light hand, marked him as the inevitable centaur; and
he had already gained a measure of distinction in the cavalry arm of the
Officers' Training Corps. But a great wish to keep in touch with his
father led him to fall in with Sir Nevil's suggestion that he should
start in the Artists' Rifles and apply for a transfer later on--when one
could see more clearly how this terrific business was likely to develop.
George and Jerry--aged fifteen and sixteen and a half--raged at their
own futile juvenility--which, in happier circumstances, nothing would
have induced them to admit. Jerry--a gay and reckless being--had fell
designs on the Flying Corps, the very first moment he could 'wangle it.'
George--the truest Sinclair of them all--sagely voted for the Navy,
because it took you young. But no one heeded them very much. They were
all too absorbed in newspapers and their own immediate plans.

And Lilamani, also, found her niche, when the King's stirring
proclamation announced the coming of Indian troops. There was to be a
camp on the estate. Later on, there would be convalescents. Meantime,
there was wholesale need of 'comforts' to occupy her and Helen and
Christine.

Tara's soaring ambition would carry her farther afield. Her spirit of
flame--that rose instinctively to tragic issues and heroic
demands--could be at peace nowhere but in the splendid, terrible,
unorganised thick of it all. Without making any ado, she proposed to get
there in the shortest possible time; and, in the shortest possible time,
by sheer concentration and hard work, she achieved her desire. Before
Roy left England, before her best-loved brother--a man of brilliant
promise--had finished learning to fly, she was driving her car in
Belgium, besieged in Antwerp, doing and enduring terrible things ...

After Tara, Nevil--for the Artists' Rifles were early in the field.
After Nevil, Roy--his exchange effected--very slim and soldierly in
cavalry uniform; his grey-blue eyes, with the lurking gleam in them,
more than ever noticeable in his sunburnt face.

The last day, the last hour were at once sad and glad beyond belief; so
that Lilamani's coward heart