n now, I'm afraid. A bit closer and I shall have to settle
down and give music lessons. That's all I'm fit for in future! And
Dierdre wouldn't want me to set up housekeeping alone. While I'm on this
Red Cross job it's all right, but----"

Of course Father Beckett broke in to say that there was no question of
not carrying on. Money should be forthcoming for supplies as long as
Julian felt inclined to drive the Red Cross taxi from one scene of
desolation and distress to another. Holidays must be frequent, and all
spent at the Chateau d'Andelle. Let the future decide itself!

So matters were settled--on the surface. Julian was ready to pose
before an admiring audience as the self-sacrificing hero, giving all his
time and energy to a noble cause. Only his sister and I knew that he was
the villain of the piece, and for different reasons neither of us could
explain the mistake about his role. He was sure of us both; impudently,
aggravatingly, yet (I can't _help_ it, Padre!) amusingly sure of me. He
tried to "isolate" me, as if I'd been a microbe while we were still at
Soissons, and again just after Father Beckett and Brian went away from
Amiens in the big gray car. There was something, something very special
that he wished to say to me, I could tell by his eyes. But I contrived
to thwart him. I never left Mother Beckett for a moment!

The first day at Amiens it was easy to keep out of his way altogether,
for I was nurse as well as friend, and my dear little invalid was worn
out after the journey from Soissons. She asked nothing better than to
stop in her room. The next day, however, exciting news acted upon her
like a tonic. The Amiens address had been wired to Paris, and in
addition to a mass of letters (mostly for Father Beckett) there was a
telegram from the Chateau d'Andelle, despatched by an agency messenger,
who had been sent to Normandy. All was going well. The house would be
ready on the date named. Two large boxes from the Ritz had safely
arrived by _grande vitesse_.

"Darling Jimmy's own things!" Mother Beckett explained to me. "Do you
remember my telling you we'd brought over to France the treasures out of
his den at home?"

I did remember. (Do I ever forget anything she says about Jim?)

"They were to be a surprise for him when he came to see us," his mother
went on, tears misting the blueness of her eyes. "Not furniture, you
know, but just the little things he loved best in his rooms: some he had
when he wa