ralty and see if I can get hold of old
Wilcock," he continued. "If he won't tell me anything, I'll wring the
old beggar's neck."

The Admiral left the house a few minutes later and Lady Conyers walked
arm in arm with her daughter into the pleasant little morning-room which
looked out upon the Square. The former paused for a moment to look at
Thomson's photograph, which stood upon one of the side tables. Then she
closed the door.

"Geraldine," she said, "I am not very happy about you and Hugh."

"Why not, mother?" the girl asked, looking out of the window.

"Perhaps because I like Hugh," Lady Conyers went on quietly, "perhaps,
too, because I am not sure that you have done wisely. You haven't given
me any reason yet, have you, for breaking your engagement?"

Geraldine was silent for a moment. Then she came back and sat on the rug
at her mother's feet. She kept her face, however, a little turned away.

"It's so hard to put it into words, mother," she said thoughtfully,
"only Hugh never seemed to give me any of his confidence. Of course, his
is very dull work, looking after hospitals and that sort of thing, but
still, I'd have liked to try and take an interest in it. He must have
seen exciting things in France, but it is only by the merest chance that
one ever realises that he has been even near the Front. He is so silent,
so secretive."

Lady Conyers took up her knitting.

"Some men are like that, dear," she remarked. "It is just temperamental.
Perhaps you haven't encouraged him to talk."

"But I have," Geraldine insisted. "I have asked him no end of questions,
but before he has answered any of them properly, I find him trying to
change the conversation."

"Men don't like talking about the war, you know," Lady Conyers went on.
"There was that nice Major Tyndale who was back from the Front the other
day with a V. C. and goodness knows what. Not a word would he say about
any one of the fights, and he is cheery enough in a general way, isn't
he, and fond of talking?"

"Even then," Geraldine protested, "Hugh's work is different. I can
understand why he doesn't like to talk a lot about the wounded and that
sort of thing, but he must have had some interesting adventures."

"I don't think," Lady Conyers said, "the very nicest men talk about
their adventures."

Geraldine made a little grimace.

"Hugh doesn't talk about anything," she complained. "He goes about
looking as though he had the cares of the world upon h