have to thank for what he does."

"That is not quite just," said Miss Vanderpoel. "He and Mr. Penzance
fought on the field. I only supplied some of the ammunition."

"The county doesn't think of him as it did even a year ago, miss," said
Tewson rather smugly. "He was very ill thought of then among the gentry.
It's wonderful the change that's come about. If he should fall ill
there'll be a deal of sympathy."

"I hope there is no question of his falling ill," said Miss Vanderpoel.

Mr. Tewson lowered his voice confidentially. This was really his most
valuable item of news.

"Well, miss," he admitted, "I have heard that he's been looking very bad
for a good bit, and it was told me quite private, because the doctors
and the vicar don't want the people to be upset by hearing it--that for
a week he's not been well enough to make his rounds."

"Oh!" The exclamation was a faint one, but it was an exclamation.
"I hope that means nothing really serious," Miss Vanderpoel added.
"Everyone will hope so."

"Yes, miss," said Mr. Tewson, deftly twisting the string round the
package he was tying up for her. "A sad reward it would be if he lost
his life after doing all he has done. A sad reward! But there'd be a
good deal of sympathy."

The small package contained trifles of sewing and knitting materials she
was going to take to Mrs. Welden, and she held out her hand for it. She
knew she did not smile quite naturally as she said her good-morning
to Tewson. She went out into the pale amber sunshine and stood a few
moments, glad to find herself bathed in it again. She suddenly needed
air and light. "A sad reward!" Sometimes people were not rewarded. Brave
men were shot dead on the battlefield when they were doing brave things;
brave physicians and nurses died of the plagues they faithfully wrestled
with. Here were dread and pain confronting her--Betty Vanderpoel--and
while almost everyone else seemed to have faced them, she was wholly
unused to their appalling clutch. What a life hers had been--that in
looking back over it she should realise that she had never been touched
by anything like this before! There came back to her the look of almost
awed wonder in G. Selden's honest eyes when he said: "What it must be to
be you--just YOU!" He had been thinking only of the millions and of
the freedom from all everyday anxieties the millions gave. She smiled
faintly as the thought crossed her brain. The millions! The rolling
up of them ye