back on deck again, all in a moment. She was looking at the
doctor as he stared at her blindly, but she was suddenly conscious of a
loud and passionate "Damn!" very close to her. She guessed, rather than
realized, that she was standing on someone's foot.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she said, flushing hotly; she gave the owner of the
foot, which was in a neat brown shoe, a swift upward glance that stopped
at rather bright, downcast brown eyes. The next minute she was waving
to the doctor, for the tender had already started and the gap of dirty
water was widening.

"You'll take care, Marcella," he called. "And, Marcella, if you're
getting unhappy, you'll be coming back home?"

"Of course I'll come back. This is only a crusade," she said, waving her
hand to him, feeling that she would begin to dance with excitement in
another moment, and at the same time wishing that he could come with
her, for, as she saw him through mists slowly getting further and
further away while the gap of water widened, she realized how absolutely
alone she was.

Next moment she became aware of a tall, grey-haired lady in black
clinging to the rail beside the doctor, and crying unrestrainedly as she
seemed to be gazing directly at Marcella.

"Louis, you'll remember, won't you?" she cried in a faint, choked
voice. "You'll try, won't you?" and Marcella, turning slightly,
realized that it was the young man with brown eyes at whom she was
looking.

"Yes, Mater, you know I will," said he hoarsely. A crowd of half a dozen
men standing on the other side of Dr. Angus began to yell greetings and
farewells to the man called Louis while the grey lady's eyes and his
held each other for a moment in a passionate glance of appeal and
ratification.

"Cheerio, Farne," called someone.

"Farne, don't get wet!" yelled someone else. There was a chorus of
cheers and catcalls.

"Buck up, Mater," he called with another long glance. Then, waving his
hat to the others he called cheerfully, "Give my respects to Leicester
Square, you chaps."

A group of stewards in white jackets began to whistle the song and
someone on the boat deck sang it in a high falsetto. Someone behind
Marcella was holding a piece of white ribbon that went right across the
water to the tender; as the boat's speed accelerated the frail thread
snapped and the girl in whose hand it was clasped, a very thin, anaemic
looking girl, gave a choking sob.

"My only sister," she said to no one in particu