w brief weeks. Of the man who never had
to make good, being the wonder of wonders of men, the delicious
companion, the incomparable lover, the all-compelling revealer, the
great, gay, scarcely, to her woman's limited power of vision,
comprehended heroic soldier. Of the terrifying meaninglessness of
life, now that her God of Very God, in human form, had been swept, in
an instant, off the earth into the Unknown.

Yet was life meaningless after all? There must be some significance,
some inner truth veiled in mystery, behind even the casually accepted
and never probed religion to which she had been born and in which she
had found poor refuge. For, like many of her thoughtless,
unquestioning class, she had looked at Christ through stained-glass
windows, and now the windows were darkened.... For the first time in
her life, her soul groped intensely towards eternal verities. The fire
burned low and she shivered. She became again the bit of human flotsam
cruelly buffeted by the waves, forgotten of God. Yet, after she had
risen and crept into bed and while she was staring into the darkness,
her heart became filled with a vast pity for the thousands and
thousands of women, her sisters, who at that moment were staring,
hopeless, like her, into the unrelenting night.

She did not fall asleep till early morning. She rose late. About
half-past eleven as she was preparing to walk abroad on a dreary
shopping excursion--the hospital visiting hour was in the afternoon--a
telegram arrived from the Dean.

"Just heard that Marmaduke is severely wounded."

* * * * *

She scarcely recognized the young private tutor of Denby Hall in the
elderly man with the deeply furrowed face, who smiled as she
approached his bed. She had brought him flowers, cigarettes of the
exquisite kind that Doggie used to smoke, chocolates....

She sat down by his bedside.

"All this is more than gracious, Mrs. Manningtree," said Phineas. "To
a _vieux routier_ like me, it is a wee bit overwhelming."

"It's very little to do for Doggie's best friend."

Phineas's eyes twinkled. "If you call him Doggie, like that, maybe it
won't be so difficult for me to talk to you."

"Why should it be difficult at all?" she asked. "We both love him."

"Ay," said Phineas. "He's a lovable lad, and it is because others
besides you and me find him lovable, that I took the liberty of
writing to you."

"The girl in France?"

"Eh?" He put out