She sat down suddenly by the couch with an air of having forgotten all
about the errand which had brought her into the room, clasped her hands
round her knee, and began a series of disconnected childish memories,
while Sylvia gazed spellbound at the beautiful, dreamy face, and
wondered how she could ever have thought it cold and unfeeling.

"We were always such chums, from the time that I was a mite in
pinafores. I remember his first explaining to me what happened when
people died--how their bodies were put into the grave, while their souls
went straight to heaven; but I didn't understand what a soul was, and I
was frightened and cried out, `Well, I won't go one step without my
body!' I used to play tricks on him, and he would catch me up and carry
me into his room, and say, `Will you rather be poisoned, or buried
alive?' and I would prefer the poisoning because it was chocolates out
of the corner cupboard.

"He used to wake me in the mornings coming battering at my door, and
singing, `Come awake thee, awake thee, my merry Swiss lass!' and when we
were learning French fables from Miss Minnitt, we used to take arms,
Bridgie and I, and walk up and down before him reciting, `Deux
compagnons presse d'argent!' It didn't make any difference whether he
had the money or not--he always gave it to us.

"One day we were going for a picnic, and he walked on with the men,
leaving me to drive after them in the cart with the provisions. There
was only one thing he told me to remember, and that was just what I
forgot--his camera, to take a special view which he'd wanted for an age.
Four miles from home it jumped into my mind, and I sat in misery the
rest of the way. The Major laughed when I told him, and sympathised
with me for my upset. `You'll forget your own head next, and it will be
a pity,' he said, `for it's a very pretty one.'

"I hated to vex him just because he was so sweet about it. No one ever
understood me as well as the Major, and when I was in a tantrum he would
say, `Think it over till to-morrow, my girl. If you are of the same
mind then, we will discuss it together,' and, of course, I never did
think the same two days running.

"When he was ill he used to lie looking at me, and his face was quite
different from that in the picture--so sad and wistful. `I've not done
much in the way of training you, my girl,' he would say, `but I've loved
you a great deal. Maybe that will do as well. You are not one to