orbidden her resuming her nursing work for some months, she
said, and had suggested that she should go to the seaside. But this
she had refused to do, as she hated leaving her home. Besides, her
brother Tom might come home on leave almost any day, and she wanted to
be there to meet him.

'But you said you promised dad to pay us another visit as soon as you
could,' her letter concluded, 'and I am writing to remind you of your
promise. You told me you had some leave still due to you after your
last visit, so why not come at once? The sooner the better.'

She gave no special reason for asking me to come, but I read into her
appeal a desire to tell me something, and perhaps to ask my advice. I
therefore had a chat with my C.O., with the result that I started to
see my friend the same day.

On arriving at the station I found him on the platform awaiting me.

'Now this is sensible,' he cried with a laugh. 'This is something like
dispatch. Come on, I have a motor outside. I suppose you will trust
me to drive you.'

'You look fit, anyhow,' I said.

'Fit as a fiddle,' he replied. 'I go back to the front in four days.'

He looked years younger than when I had first seen him. The old
wistful look in his eyes had almost entirely gone, while the
parchment-like skin had become almost as smooth and ruddy as that of a
boy.

'Oh, it has been glorious,' he said. 'I've taken the little mother to
all sorts of places, and dad declares she looks twenty years younger.
More than once we've been taken for lovers.'

'And your memory, Jack?'

'Sound as a bell. Wonderful, isn't it? Sometimes I'm almost glad I
went through it all. After--after--years of darkness and loneliness,
to emerge suddenly into the light! To have a mother, and a father,
and--a home!'

'And you and your father get on well together?'

'Yes, in a way. But I have a lot to tell you about that. Here we are!'

I shall not attempt to describe Jack Carbis's home, nor the welcome I
received. Had I been their son, Lord and Lady Carbis could not have
received me with greater joy.

It was not until late that Jack and I were able to be alone, but at
length when the others had gone to bed we found ourselves in a kind of
snuggery which had been especially set apart for his own personal use.

'It's great, having you here,' he cried, as he threw himself into an
arm-chair; 'great to feel alive, and to remember things. Have you
heard from Bolivick?'

'Yes