haven't to fight, and get killed;
they oughtn't to mind us taking what we can. They've had their good
time."

It was such a just little speech that Thirza answered:

"Yes; perhaps he hasn't quite realised that."

"I want to make sure of Cyril, Auntie; I want everything I can have with
him while there's the chance. I don't think it's much to ask, when
perhaps I'll never have any more of him again."

Thirza slipped her hand through the girl's arm.

"I understand," she said. "Only, Nollie, suppose, when all this is over,
and we breathe and live naturally once more, you found you'd made a
mistake?"

Noel shook her head. "I haven't."

"We all think that, my dear; but thousands of mistakes are made by people
who no more dream they're making them than you do now; and then it's a
very horrible business. It would be especially horrible for you; your
father believes heart and soul in marriage being for ever."

"Daddy's a darling; but I don't always believe what he believes, you
know. Besides, I'm not making a mistake, Auntie! I love Cyril ever so."

Thirza gave her waist a squeeze.

"You mustn't make a mistake. We love you too much, Nollie. I wish we
had Gratian here."

"Gratian would back me up," said Noel; "she knows what the war is. And
you ought to, Auntie. If Rex or Harry wanted to be married, I'm sure
you'd never oppose them. And they're no older than Cyril. You must
understand what it means to me Auntie dear, to feel that we belong to
each other properly before--before it all begins for him, and--and there
may be no more. Daddy doesn't realise. I know he's awfully good,
but--he's forgotten."

"My dear, I think he remembers only too well. He was desperately
attached to your mother."

Noel clenched her hands.

"Was he? Well, so am I to Cyril, and he to me. We wouldn't be
unreasonable if it wasn't--wasn't necessary. Talk, to Cyril, Auntie;
then you'll understand. There he is; only, don't keep him long, because
I want him. Oh! Auntie; I want him so badly!"

She turned; and slipped back into the house; and Thirza, conscious of
having been decoyed to this young man, who stood there with his arms
folded, like Napoleon before a battle, smiled and said:

"Well, Cyril, so you've betrayed me!"

Even in speaking she was conscious of the really momentous change in this
sunburnt, blue-eyed, lazily impudent youth since the day he arrived,
three weeks ago, in their little wagonette. He took her