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But at present he is enjoying one of his hard-earned rests, being billeted in a farmhouse well away from the firing-line. Here, having no duties or responsibilities to fix all his thoughts on the present, he can allow them to dwell on the future for a while. This desperate and relentless war will come to an end in time--how soon he knows no more than anyone, but that it will end in victory for England and her Allies he has no doubt whatever. He is equally sure, though he could not account for his certainty, that, unlike many a better fellow than himself, he will live to see his country at peace once more. But what is he to do then? Even if an opening in the City presented itself, he could never stick an office again after this. On the other hand, even if he gets another step or two, he will find it difficult to live on his pay in a crack cavalry regiment. However, the Governor will no doubt give him an allowance that will enable him to stay in the Service--the Mater can be safely trusted to see to that! So, this question being satisfactorily disposed of, his thoughts, as usual on these occasions, drift back to Maerchenland, and particularly to Daphne's parting words on the night he left the Palace. Would she think, he wonders, that he has done something to justify her belief in him? At least she might be pleased if she knew that he could not fairly be described any longer as a useless rotter. "Only," he tells himself disconsolately, "she never _will_ know. England's no country of hers now, and she wouldn't feel enough interest in it even to send the Baron across in the stork-car for a daily paper. If she did, she'd be none the wiser, because he'd be sure to bring _The Poultry-Fancier's Journal_ or _The Financial News_, or something of that sort. And, after all, if she had any idea of the ghastly business that has been going on in this old world for the last year, she's too much heart to be happy--even in Maerchenland. But now she'll go on being happy for the rest of her life, bless her! and if she gives me a thought now and then--well, it will be a jolly sight more than I deserve!" THE END * * * * * _Works by F. Anstey_ Salted Almonds. Second Impression. Crown 8vo. 6s. _ATHENAEUM._--'All the pieces have that rare savour which is the Author's secret.' The Brass Bottle. With a Frontispiece. 5th Impression. (_Waterloo Library._) Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. _SPECTATOR
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