d continued reminiscently, "a sort of cross
between a dreamer, an idealist, and a sportsman. There was never
anything of the practical man of affairs about him. He was scrupulously
honourable, and almost a purist in his outlook upon life. I have met
a great many Germans," Richard went on, "and I've killed a few, thank
God!--but he is about as unlike the ordinary type as any one I ever met.
The only pity is that he ever served his time with them."

Philippa had been listening attentively. She was more than ever silent
after her brother's little appreciation of his friend. Richard glanced
at her good-humouredly.

"You haven't killed the fatted calf for me in the shape of clothes,
Philippa," he observed. "One would think that you were going on a
journey."

She glanced down at her high-necked gown and avoided Helen's anxious
eyes.

"I may go for a walk," she said, "and leave you two young people to talk
secrets. I am rather fond of the garden these moonlight nights."

"When is Henry coming back?" her brother enquired.

Philippa's manner was quiet but ominous.

"I have no idea," she confessed. "He comes and goes as the whim seizes
him, and I very seldom know where he is. One week it is whiting and
another codling. Lately he seems to have shown some partiality for
London life."

Richard's eyes were wide open now.

"You mean to say that he is still not doing anything?"

"Nothing whatever."

"But what excuse does he give--or rather I should say reason?" Richard
persisted.

"He says that he is too old for a ship, and he won't work in an office,"
Philippa replied. "That is what he says. His point of view is so
impossible that I can not even discuss it with him."

"It's the rummest go I ever came across," Richard remarked
reminiscently. "I should have said that old Henry would have been up and
at 'em at the Admiralty before the first gun was fired."

"On the contrary," Philippa rejoined, "he took advantage of the war to
hire a Scotch moor at half-price, about a week after hostilities had
commenced."

"It's a rum go," Richard repeated. "I can't fancy Henry as a skulker.
Forgive me, Philippa," he added.

"You are entirely forgiven," she assured him drily.

"He comes of such a fine fighting stock," Richard mused. "I suppose his
health is all right?"

"His health," Philippa declared, "is marvellous. I should think he is
one of the strongest men I know."

Her brother patted her hand.

"You've been making rat