ptain Burnett?--you told me, but I have forgotten. I think you are the
happiest man I know.'

Kester in his boyish reticence could not speak out his inmost thought,
or he would have added: 'And the greatest and the grandest man I have
ever seen.'

A dim, inscrutable smile flitted over Captain Burnett's features.

'My dear fellow, happiness is a purely relative term. I am not a great
believer in happiness. A soldier without his work is hardly to be
envied.'

Kester was young, but his life had already taught him many things. He
was acute enough to detect a note of bitterness in his new friend's
voice. It said, more than his words, that Captain Burnett was a
disappointed man. He looked at him wistfully for a moment.

'Yes, I know what you mean. You would like to be back with your
regiment. It is very hard--very hard, of course; but you are not
suffering for nothing, like me. Don't you see the difference?'--dropping
his voice. 'I have got this pain to bear, and no good comes of it; it is
just bearing, and nothing else. But you have suffered in saving other
men's lives. It is a kind of ransom. Oh, I don't know how to express
myself, but it must be happiness to have a memory like that!'

Kester had spoken with a sort of involuntary outburst. For a moment
Captain Burnett turned his head aside. He felt rebuked by this crude,
boyish enthusiasm, which had gone so straight to the heart of things.
Why was he, the grown man, so selfish, so impatient, when this poor lad
acquiesced so meekly in his fate? Had Kester deserved his lot?

'You are right,' observed Michael, in a low tone. 'One ought only to be
thankful, and not complain.'

And just at this moment Audrey came in, and stood on the threshold
transfixed with amazement, until Michael rose and offered her a chair.

'You here!' she gasped. 'I thought I heard voices. Mollie, this is my
cousin, Captain Burnett. I suppose we must let him stay to tea.'

Mollie gave her invitation very shyly. The poor child was thinking of
her shabby frock, with the great rent in the skirt, so hastily cobbled
up. The pale man with the reddish moustache was very formidable in
Mollie's eyes. Mollie was sure her hand would tremble when she lifted
the heavy teapot. She had been so looking forward to having a cosy tea
with their dear Miss Ross, and now everything was spoilt.

When Mollie was shy she always looked a little sulky; but Michael, who
noticed her embarrassment, set himself to charm it