at twenty-two. She thought it extremely natural. It seemed to her
very sensible of Daphne to accept him, and that she was the most
fortunate girl in existence.

"I hope your sister doesn't mind my taking you away from the gay,
fashionable world for a day?" she archly asked.

"Oh no, of course not. We're going in the country next week, so I wanted
to see you."

"Cyril's at Aldershot. I don't think he'll be able to come down this
afternoon. He can't get away this week, I'm afraid."

"I shall see him before I go," said Daphne.

"Do you have a letter from him every day, darling?"

"Oh yes, a few lines."

"He is a noble boy!" said Mrs. Foster enthusiastically. "How he always
hated writing letters! I remember how I guided his little hand to write
his first letter to his uncle, General Rayner. Just as we got to the end
of the letter Cyril suddenly jumped up and threw over the table. The
letter was simply drenched in ink. Dear boy! I've got it still.... Oh,
you must come into the garden, Daphne. I've something new to show you. A
friend of mine has just let her house. She didn't know what to do with
her dovecot--nobody wanted it--so she's given it to me. Come and see the
dear little creatures--they are so pretty."

They went out into the garden and stood looking at a sort of depressed
pigeon-house.

Mrs. Foster made strange noises, which she thought suitable to attract
the inmates, and Daphne saw two doves who struck her as if they had
married in haste and were repenting at leisure.

"Why don't you let them go free?" suggested the girl. "Just think how
happy and delighted they'd be."

"I doubt it. I don't think they'd know what to do with their freedom.
They're not used to my garden yet, that's what's the matter. I do wish
they would coo; perhaps they will a little later on." (This was a
favourite expression of Mrs. Foster's.) "I want to see one perched on
your shoulder, Daphne. It would make such a pretty picture."

"I'd rather give them something to eat," said Daphne.

Mrs. Foster started.

"Oh yes, of course. I fed them all yesterday afternoon, but I forgot
about them this morning. Henry! Henry!"

The smallest boy appeared that had ever been called by that name.

"Henry, feed the doves."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then bring the watering-can. We're going to water the flowers."

Henry, who seemed of a morose nature, went to obey.

"I'm obliged to have a boy for the knives, and he acts as a gardener
when I'm bus