aken too much upon myself, what with the
flower-boxes and having the house repainted. I wanted to have things
nice for your Lordship after----" She hesitated for a word, and then
burst out, "After all the dirt and beastliness! Your Lordship ought
never to have gone in the ranks, begging your pardon; you weren't fitted
for it. You ought to have gone as a General. Then you wouldn't have come
home with that poor leg and----" She saw him wince and changed the
subject. "But about doing things without orders, I knew that if
Braithwaite--if Braithwaite----" Her voice sagged and her eyes misted
over. At last Tabs saw how she looked in her off-duty moments, when she
wasn't occupied with being respectful. The sudden memory came back of
intuitions he had had that she and his valet might one day marry. From
time to time he had twitted them on their fondness, taking an idle
pleasure in forwarding the match. And Braithwaite had kissed her before
he marched away. Ridiculous to remember it now! It signified nothing.
People in their station kissed when they felt kindly, and on that
occasion they had had an epoch-making pretext.

Her eyes were searching his with a hungry wistfulness. "What I was
meaning, your Lordship, was that if he had been spared, he'd have done
things on his own and gone ahead, the same as he always did. So I,
seeing as how he wasn't----"

Tabs touched her shoulder gently. "It's all right, Ann. I appreciate
your motives. I'm glad you went ahead. But you haven't shaken hands
yet."

He glanced in at the dining-room before he went upstairs. The table was
spread for dinner. Cut flowers were standing about in vases. The very
silver had a festive shine.

"Again I have to be sorry," he told her. "I'm dining with Sir Tobias
Beddow."

"And Miss Terry," she inquired, "is she well?"

When he went to climb the narrow stairs she refused to permit him to
carry his bag. He guessed the reason--that he might be freer to support
himself by the rail of the banisters. On the first small landing, which
looked out at the back on to the Oratory and the graveyard of the Parish
Church, there were still more flowers. When he reached his bedroom,
three flights up, he found that his evening clothes had been all laid
out and just as carefully as if Braithwaite--the old Braithwaite whom he
had loved--had been there before him.

As she unpacked his bag, opening and closing drawers, "I shall have to
look round for another valet," he said.