p! Isn't it pretty at night?'

The officer sitting in front beside the driver turned to ask--

'Where shall I put you down?'

'Number----' said both the maidens in concert. The elderly major in
khaki--who in peace-time was the leading doctor of a Shropshire country
town--could not help smiling at the two lassies, and their bright looks.

'You don't seem particularly sorry to come back!' he said.

'Oh, we're tired of holidays,' said the taller of the two, with a laugh.
'People at home think they're _so_ busy, and---'

'You think they're doing nothing?'

'Well, it don't seem much, when you've been out here!' said the girl
more gravely--'and when you know what there is to do!'

'Aye, aye,' said the man in front. 'We could do with hundreds more of
your sort. Hope you preached to your friends.'

'We did!' said both, each with the same young steady voice.

'Here we are--Stop, please.'

For the motor had turned aside to climb the hill into the semicircle. On
all sides now were rows of low buildings--hospital huts--hospital
marquees--stores--canteens. Close to the motor, as it came to a
stand-still, the door of a great marquee stood open, and Bridget could
see within, a lighted hospital ward, with rows of beds, men in scarlet
bed-jackets, sitting or lying on them--flowers--nurses moving about. The
scene was like some bright and delicate illumination on the dark.

'I shall have to take you a bit further on,' said the major to Bridget,
as the two young nurses waved farewell. 'We've got a room in the hotel
for you. And Dr. Howson will come for you in the morning. He thought
that would be more satisfactory both for you and the patient than that
you should go to the hospital to-night.'

Bridget acquiesced, with a strong sense of relief. And presently the
camp and its lights were all left behind again, and the motor was
rushing on, first through a dark town, and then through woods--pine
woods--as far as the faint remaining light enabled her to see, till dim
shapes of houses, and scattered lamps began again to appear, and the
motor drew up.

'Well, you'll find a bed here, and some food,' said the major as he
handed her out. 'Can't promise much. It's a funny little place, but
they don't look after you badly.'

They entered one of the small seaside hotels of the cheaper sort which
abound in French watering-places, where the walls of the tiny rooms seem
to be made of brown paper, and everyone is living in their neighbour