o miss that. I'm hanged if I don't
speak about it!... And that reminds me.... Good Lord, it's ten o'clock!
I must go."

He started up, Hilda rose, smiling a little.

"That's better," said the old fellow; "must be a man, what? It's all a
bit of the war, you know."

"Oh, Uncle Bob, you _are_ a dear. You do cheer one up, somehow. I wish
men were more like you."

"No, you don't, my dear, don't you think it. I'm a back number, and you
know it, as well as any."

"You're not, Uncle Bob. I won't have you say it. Give me a kiss and say
you don't mean it."

"Well, well, Hilda, there is life in the old dog yet, and I must be off
and show it. No, I won't have another, not before duty. Good-night, dear,
and don't worry."

Hilda saw him off, and waved her hand from the door. Then she went back
slowly to the study and looked round. She stood a few moments and then
switched off the lights, and went out and slowly upstairs. The maid was
in the bedroom, and she dismissed her, keeping her face turned away. In
front of her glass, she held her letter irresolutely a moment, and then
folded it and slipped it into a drawer. She lifted a photo from the
dressing-table and looked at it for a few minutes earnestly. Then she
went to her window, threw it up, and leaned on the sill, staring hard
over the dark and empty park.

Outside, the General walked some distance before he found a taxi. He
walked fast for a man of his age, and ruminated as he went. It was his
way, and the way of his kind. Most of the modern sciences left him
unmoved, and although he would vehemently have denied it, he was the
most illogical of men. He held fast by a few good, sound, old-fashioned
principles, and the process of thought, to him, meant turning over a new
thing until he had got it into line with these principles. It was an
excellent method as far as it went, and it made him what he was--a
thoroughly sound and dependable servant of the State in any routine
business.

At the War Office he climbed more slowly up the steps and into the lobby.
An officer was just coming out, and they recognised each other under the
shaded lights. "Hullo, Chichester, what are you doing here?" demanded
Doyle heartily. "Thought you were in France."

"So I was, up to yesterday. I've just arrived. Orders."

"Where have you been?"

"Rouen. It's a big show now. Place full of new troops and mechanics in
uniform. To tell you the truth, Doyle, the Army's a different proposition
fro