tous change
in this sunburnt, blue-eyed, lazily impudent youth since the day he
arrived, three weeks ago, in their little wagonette. He took her arm,
just as Noel had, and made her sit down beside him on the rustic bench,
where he had evidently been told to wait.

"You see, Mrs. Pierson," he said, "it's not as if Noel were an ordinary
girl in an ordinary time, is it? Noel is the sort of girl one would
knock one's brains out for; and to send me out there knowing that I
could have been married to her and wasn't, will take all the heart out
of me. Of course I mean to come back, but chaps do get knocked over, and
I think it's cruel that we can't take what we can while we can. Besides,
I've got money; and that would be hers anyway. So, do be a darling,
won't you?" He put his arm round her waist, just as if he had been her
son, and her heart, which wanted her own boys so badly, felt warmed
within her.

"You see, I don't know Mr. Pierson, but he seems awfully gentle and
jolly, and if he could see into me he wouldn't mind, I know. We don't
mind risking our lives and all that, but we do think we ought to have
the run of them while we're alive. I'll give him my dying oath or
anything, that I could never change towards Noel, and she'll do the
same. Oh! Mrs. Pierson, do be a jolly brick, and put in a word for me,
quick! We've got so few days!"

"But, my dear boy," said Thirza feebly, "do you think it's fair to such
a child as Noel?"

"Yes, I do. You don't understand; she's simply had to grow up. She is
grown-up--all in this week; she's quite as old as I am, really--and
I'm twenty-two. And you know it's going to be--it's got to be--a young
world, from now on; people will begin doing things much earlier. What's
the use of pretending it's like what it was, and being cautious, and all
that? If I'm going to be killed, I think we've got a right to be married
first; and if I'm not, then what does it matter?"

"You've known each other twenty-one days, Cyril."

"No; twenty-one years! Every day's a year when--Oh! Mrs. Pierson, this
isn't like you, is it? You never go to meet trouble, do you?"

At that shrewd remark, Thirza put her hand on the hand which still
clasped her waist, and pressed it closer.

"Well, my dear," she said softly, "we must see what can be done."

Cyril Morland kissed her cheek. "I will bless you for ever," he said. "I
haven't got any people, you know, except my two sisters."

And something like tears started