he kiddies
myself," Captain Middleton called as he started to run down, and Jan
went back to answer the telephone.

He ran fast, for Jan's voice had been anxious and distressed. Five long
flights did he descend, and at the bottom he met Meg and the children
just arrived to hear the melancholy news from the hall porter.

Meg always wheeled little Fay to and from the gardens in the funny
little folding "pram" they had brought from India. The plump baby was a
tight fit, but the queer little carriage was light and easily managed.
The big policeman outside the gate often held up the traffic to let Meg
and her charges get across the road safely, and she would sail serenely
through the avenue of fiercely panting monsters with Tony holding on to
her coat, while little Fay waved delightedly to the drivers. That
afternoon she was very tired, for it had started to rain, cold, gusty
March rain. She had hurried home in dread lest Tony should take cold. It
seemed the last straw, somehow, that the lift should have gone wrong.
She left the pram with the porter and was just bracing herself to carry
heavy little Fay when this very tall young man came dashing down the
staircase, saw them and raised his hat. "Miss Morton? Miss Ross has just
entrusted me with a message ... that I'm to carry her niece upstairs,"
and he took little Fay out of Meg's arms.

Meg looked up at him. She had to look up a long way--and he looked down
into a very small white face.

The buffeting wind that had given little Fay the loveliest colour, and
Tony a very pink nose, only left Meg pallid with fatigue; but she smiled
at Captain Middleton, and it was a smile of such radiant happiness as
wholly transfigured her face. It came from the exquisite knowledge that
Jan had thought of her, had known she would be tired.

To be loved, to be remembered, to be taken care of was to Meg the most
wonderful thing in the world. It went to her head like wine.

Therefore did she smile at Captain Middleton in this distracting
fashion. It started tremblingly at the corners of her mouth, and
then--quite suddenly--her wan little face became dimpled and beseeching
and triumphant all at once.

It had no connection whatsoever with Captain Middleton, but how was he
to know that?

It fairly bowled him, middle stump, first ball.

No one had ever smiled at him like that before. It turned him hot and
cold, and gave him a lump in his throat with the sheer heartrending
pathos of it. An