about turn."

Marigold, who had stopped the car, got out unwillingly and went to the
starting-handle. That I should be refused admittance to a house which I
had deigned to honour with my presence he regarded as an intolerable
insult. He also loved to have tea, as a pampered guest, in other folks'
houses. When he got home Mrs. Marigold, as like as not, would give him
plain slabs of bread buttered by her economical self. I knew my
Marigold. He gave a vicious and ineffectual turn or two and then stuck
his head in the bonnet.

The situation was saved by the appearance from the garden of Mrs. Boyce
herself, a handsome, erect, elegantly dressed old lady in the late
sixties, pink and white like a Dresden figure and in her usual
condition of resplendent health. She held out her hand.

"I couldn't let you go without telling you that Leonard is back. I
don't want the whole town to know. If it did, I should see nothing of
him, his leave is so short. That's why I told Mary to say 'not at
home.' But an old friend like you--Would you like to see him?"

Marigold closed the bonnet and stood up with a grimace which passed for
a happy smile.

"I should, of course," said I, politely. "But I quite understand. You
have everything to say to each other. No. I won't stay"--Marigold's
smile faded into woodenness--"I only turned in idly to see how you were
getting on. But just tell me. How is Leonard? Fit, I hope?"

"He's wonderful," she said.

I motioned Marigold to start the car.

"Give him my kind regards," said I. "No, indeed. He doesn't want to see
an old crock like me." The engine rattled. "I hope he's pleased at
finding his mother looking so bonny."

"It's only excitement at having Leonard," she explained earnestly. "In
reality I'm far from well. But I wouldn't tell him for worlds."

"What's that you wouldn't tell, mother?" cried a soft, cheery voice,
and Leonard, the fine flower of English soldiery, turned the corner of
the house.

There he stood, tall, deep-chested, clear-eyed, bronzed, his heavy chin
in the air, his bull-neck not detracting from his physical
handsomeness, but giving it a seal of enormous strength.

"My dear fellow," he cried, grasping my hand heartily, "how glad I am
to see you. Come along in and let mother give you some tea. Nonsense!"
he waved away my protest. "Marigold, stop that engine and bring in the
Major. I've got lots of things to tell you. That's right."

He strode boyishly to the front door,