General Feversham read the letter through slowly, while Lieutenant Sutch
tried not to peep at it across the table. When the general had finished
he turned back to the first page, and began it again.

"Any news?" said Sutch, with a casual air.

"They are very pleased with the house now that it's rebuilt."

"Anything more?"

"Yes. Harry's finished the sixth chapter of his history of the war."

"Good!" said Sutch. "You'll see, he'll do that well. He has imagination,
he knows the ground, he was present while the war went on. Moreover, he
was in the bazaars, he saw the under side of it."

"Yes. But you and I won't read it, Sutch," said Feversham. "No; I am
wrong. You may, for you can give me a good many years."

He turned back to his letter and again Sutch asked:--

"Anything more?"

"Yes. They are coming here in a fortnight."

"Good," said Sutch. "I shall stay."

He took a turn along the terrace and came back. He saw Feversham sitting
with the letter upon his knees and a frown of great perplexity upon his
face.

"You know, Sutch, I never understood," he said. "Did you?"

"Yes, I think I did."

Sutch did not try to explain. It was as well, he thought, that Feversham
never would understand. For he could not understand without much
self-reproach.

"Do you ever see Durrance?" asked the general, suddenly.

"Yes, I see a good deal of Durrance. He is abroad just now."

Feversham turned towards his friend.

"He came to Broad Place when you went to Suakin, and talked to me for
half an hour. He was Harry's best man. Well, that too I never
understood. Did you?"

"Yes, I understood that as well."

"Oh!" said General Feversham. He asked for no explanations, but, as he
had always done, he took the questions which he did not understand and
put them aside out of his thoughts. But he did not turn to his other
letters. He sat smoking his cigar, and looked out across the summer
country and listened to the sounds rising distinctly from the fields.
Sutch had read through all of his correspondence before Feversham spoke
again.

"I have been thinking," he said. "Have you noticed the date of the
month, Sutch?" and Sutch looked up quickly.

"Yes," said he, "this day next week will be the anniversary of our
attack upon the Redan, and Harry's birthday."

"Exactly," replied Feversham. "Why shouldn't we start the Crimean nights
again?"

Sutch jumped up from his chair.

"Splendid!" he cried. "Can we muster a tableful,