a distinguished German professor of
Natural Theology, who was a very frequent visitor to the Deanery.

Major Guthrie slightly lowered his voice: "I had the telegram an hour
ago," he explained. "I thought you knew that I was in the Reserve, that
I form part of what is called the Expeditionary Force."

"The Expeditionary Force?" she repeated in a bewildered tone. "I didn't
know there was such a thing! You never told me about it."

"Well, you've never been interested in such matters." Major Guthrie
smiled at her indulgently, and suddenly she realised that when they were
together she generally talked of her own concerns, very, very seldom of
his.

But what was this he was now saying? "Besides, it's by way of being a
secret. That's the real reason I haven't been out the last few days. I
didn't feel I could leave home for even five minutes. I've been on
tenterhooks--in fact it will take me two or three days to get fit again.
You see, I couldn't say anything to anybody! And one heard such absurd
rumours--rumours that the Government didn't mean to send any troops to
the Continent--that they had been caught napping--that the transport
arrangements had broken down, and so on. However, it's all right now! I
report myself to-night; rejoin my old regiment to-morrow; and--well, in
three or four days, please God, I shall be in France, and in a week at
latest in Belgium."

Mrs. Otway looked at him silently. She was too much surprised to speak.
She felt moved, oppressed, excited. A British Army going to France--to
Belgium? It seemed incredible!

And Major Guthrie also felt moved and excited, but _he_ was not
oppressed--he was triumphant, overjoyed. "I thought you'd understand,"
he said, and there was a little break in his voice. "It's made me feel a
young man again--that's what it's done!"

"How does your mother take it?" asked Mrs. Otway slowly.

And then for the first time a troubled look came over his kind, honest
face. "I haven't told my mother," he answered. "I've thought a good deal
about it; and I don't mean to say good-bye to her--I shall simply write
her a note saying I've had to go up to town on business. She'll have it
when I'm gone. Then, when the news is allowed to be made public, I'll
write and tell her the truth. She felt my going to South Africa so much.
You see, the man to whom she was engaged as a girl was killed in the
Crimea."

There was a moment's silence between them, and then he asked, "And Miss
Rose?--