at small-talk in which Sir Tobias did not
join. He crouched moodily in his chair, an unlighted cigar between his
fingers, looking very old and somehow deserted. With the instinctive
tenderness which she always showed when she knew that she had hurt,
Terry got up and went to him. She linked her arms about his neck and
stooped to kiss the bald-spot on his head. "Cheer up, Daddy dear; it
isn't half as bad as it sounded. Don't you want me to light your cigar
for you?"

Tabs, to distract attention from the reconciliation, addressed the
General. It was odd that he should feel so much sympathy for a man whom
his letters, already beyond recall, would stir into panic in the
morning. "Do you intend to stay in the Army, sir?"

"No. But why do you ask? They're getting rid of all of us who aren't
Regulars, no matter how brilliant our service. They're making the Army
again a social club. I shall soon be out of uniform."

"And then?" Tabs persisted.

"Oh, then I shall find something else." He spoke airily, but the shadow
which crossed his handsome face added plainly as words, "If I can find
anything."

"If it isn't impertinence," Tabs sank his voice, "may I ask what you
intend to turn to?"

The General eyed him suspiciously, wondering whether he was again about
to lay claim to the previous embarrassing acquaintance. "I have several
things in view," he said sketchily, "from which a man in my position
ought to be able to choose."

"Ought! But that hasn't been the story up-to-date. What of the Colonel
you were just telling us about?" Tabs saw that another storm was
brewing. He leant across the table and hurried on. "If the worst comes
to the worst, I expect your old job's waiting for you. The qualities
which have made you what you are to-day, must have been recognized and
valued----" Terry had completed her reconciliation with her father and
was resting her gaze upon them. Tabs altered his tone. "You put what you
said at dinner rather strongly, sir. But I understand what you were
driving at--it was the democracy of the front-line where courage, which
at its best is unselfishness, was our only standard of aristocracy."

Before the General could make reply, Sir Tobias had raised his
bewildered head. "It's a thing that I for one don't want to understand.
I don't want to go on living, if what you've said is true."

Tabs turned considerately to the older man. "I think you would if you
knew. The difference that war made to all of us