Poor fellow--poor, gallant, patient fellow!'

And the Sister's strong face softened, as Bridget had seen it soften at
Sarratt's bedside.

'And there is really no hope for him?' asked Cicely after a time. The
Sister shook her head.

'The wounds have never healed--and they drain his life away. The heart
can't last out much longer. But he's not in pain now--thank God! It's
just weakness. I assure you, everybody--almost--in this huge camp, asks
for him and many--pray for him.' The Sister's eyes filled with tears.
'And now that the poor wife's come in time, there'll be an excitement! I
heard two men in one of our wards discussing it this morning. "They do
say as Mrs. Sarratt will be here to-day," said one of them. "Well,
that's a bit of all right, ain't it?" said the other, and they both
smoked away, looking as pleased as Punch. You see Miss Cookson's
behaviour has made the whole thing so extraordinary.'

Cicely agreed.

'I suppose she thought it would be all over in a day or two,' she said,
half-absently.

The Sister looked puzzled.

'And that it would be better not to risk the effect on his wife? Of
course Mrs. Sarratt does look dreadfully delicate. So you _don't_ think
it was a mistake? It's very difficult to see how it could be! The hands
alone--one would think that anybody who really knew him must have
recognised them.'

Cicely said no more. But she wondered how poor Nelly and her sister
would ever find it possible to meet again.

Meanwhile, in the car ahead, Howson was gently and tenderly preparing
the mind of Nelly for her husband's state. He described to her also, the
first signs of Sarratt's returning consciousness--the excitement among
his doctors and nurses--the anxious waiting for the first words--the
first clear evidence of restored hearing. And then, at last, the dazed
question--'Where am I?'--and the perplexed effort to answer
Howson's--'Can you tell us your name and regiment?'

Howson described the breathless waiting of himself and another doctor,
and then the slow coming of the words: 'My name is George Sarratt,
Lieutenant, 21st Lanchesters. But why----?'

A look of bewilderment at nurses and doctors, and then again--sleep.

'The next time he spoke, it was quite distinctly and of his own accord.
The nurse heard him saying softly--it was in the early morning--"I want
my wife--send for her." She told him you had been already sent for, and
he turned his head round at once and went to sleep.'

H