nd for a moment as
if giving, rather than demanding, sympathy; and indeed, there was more
trouble in his eyes than in hers.

The service had gone perilously near to Roman practices. It was among
the first of those uncontrollable instinctive expressions of faith in
prayer for the departed which were a marked note of English feeling
during the Boer war. Questions as to their legality were asked in
Parliament, but little heeded, for the heart of the nation, "for her
children mourning," sought comfort in the prayers used by the rest of
the Christian world.

Rose's mother went home with her and they talked, very simply and in
sympathy, of the tributes to the soldier's memory. Then, when luncheon
came and the servants were present, they spoke quietly of the work to be
done for soldiers' wives and of a meeting the mother was to attend that
afternoon. Lady Charlton was the mother one would expect Rose to
have--indeed, such complete grace of courtliness and kindness points to
an education. Afterwards, while they were alone, Lady Charlton, in
broken sentences, sketched the future. She supposed Rose would stay on
although the house was too big. Much good might be done in it. There
could be no doubt as to how money must be spent this winter; and there
were the services they both loved in the Church of the Fathers of St.
Paul near at hand. Lady Charlton saw life in pictures and so did Rose.
Neither of them broke through any reserve; neither of them was curious.
It did not occur to Rose to wonder how her mother had lived and felt in
her first days as a widow. Lady Charlton did not wonder how Rose felt
now. Rose, she thought, was wonderful; life was full of mercies; there
was so much to be thankful for; and could not those who had suffered be
of great consolation to others in sorrow?

They arranged to meet at Evensong in St. Paul's Chapel, and then Lady
Charlton would come back and stay the night. On the next day she was due
at the house of her youngest married daughter.

Rose was presently left alone, and she cried quite simply. For a moment
she thought of Edmund Grosse and the sadness in his eyes. Why had he not
volunteered for the war? What a contrast!

A large photograph of Sir David in his general's uniform stood on the
writing-table in the study downstairs. There were also a picture and a
miniature in the drawing-room, but Rose thought she would like to look
at the photograph again. It was the last that had been taken. Then