iven back the enemy, and were taking up a covered position in a
wood from which to renew their offensive. It was night, black as pitch,
but they knew that the wood must have been the scene of fighting by the
scuttling of the rats. Suddenly the moon came out, and from beneath a
bush S. saw a face--or rather half a face--which he thought he
recognised, gazing up at him. He corrects himself when he tells the
story, and says that it wasn't so much the disfigured features as the
profile that struck him as familiar. He bent down and searched beneath
the shirt, and drew out a little metal disc with "No flowers by request"
written on it.

I don't know whether I ought to repeat things like that to you, but the
description was so graphic. I have met many who have returned from the
Front, and what puzzles me in all of them is their unawed acceptance of
death. I don't think I could ever accept it as natural; it's too
discourteous in its interruption of many dreams and plans and loves.

Yours with very much love,
Con.

VI

SHORNCLIFF, August 30th, 1916.

MY DEARESTS:

I have just returned from sending you a cable to let you know that I'm
off to France. The word came out in orders yesterday, and I shall leave
before the end of the week with a draft of officers--I have been in
England just a day over four weeks. My only regret is that I shall miss
the boys who should be travelling up to London about the same time as I
am setting out for the Front. After I have been there for three months I
am supposed to get a leave--this should be due to me about the beginning
of December, and you can judge how I shall count on it. Think of the
meeting with R. and E., and the immensity of the joy.

Selfishly I wish that you were here at this moment--actually I'm glad
that you are away. Everybody goes out quite unemotionally and with very
few good-byes--we made far more fuss in the old days about a week-end
visit.

Now that at last it has come--this privileged moment for which I have
worked and waited--my heart is very quiet. It's the test of a character
which I have often doubted. I shall be glad not to have to doubt it
again. Whatever happens, I know you will be glad to remember that at a
great crisis I tried to play the man, however small my qualifications.
We have always lived so near to one another's affections that this going
out alone is more lonely to me than to most men. I have al