It was his first visit to the Rectory since he had taken
up the game again, and the rush of emotion released by the vivid memory
of those old happy days when that jolly group of boys had filled this
familiar room with their noisy clatter wellnigh overcame him.

For a minute or two he fussed with the tea things till he could master
his voice, then he said very quietly:

"They are very decent chaps--really very good fellows and they have
taken their training extraordinarily well. Of course, Macnamara and
Johnson were in my old company, and that helps a lot."

"Yes, I remember Macnamara quite well. He is a fine big Irishman."

"Fancy you remembering him, Mrs. Templeton," said Captain Jack.

"Of course, I remember him. He is one of our boys."

"Let's see, he is one of your defence, isn't he?" said Stillwell, who
had felt himself rather out of the conversation. Maitland nodded. The
presence of Stillwell in that room introduced a painful element. Once he
had been one of the seven and though never so intimately associated with
the Rectory life as the others, yet at all team gatherings he had had
his place. But since the war Maitland had never been able to endure his
presence in that room. To-day, with the memory of those old thrilling
days pressing hard upon his heart, he could not bear to look upon a man,
once one of them, now forever an outsider. The tea coming in brought to
Maitland relief.

"Ah, here you are," he cried anticipating Stillwell in relieving Adrien
of part of her load. "You are a life saver. Tea is the thing for this
hour."

"Three lumps, is it not?" said the girl, smiling at him. "You see, I
remember, though you really don't deserve it. And here is Pat with the
sandwiches."

"Yes! a whole plate for yourself, Captain Jack," said Patricia. "Come
and sit by me here."

"No indeed!" said her sister with a bright glow on her cheeks. "Jack is
going to sit right here by the tea-pot, and me," she added, throwing him
a swift glance.

"No! you are both wrong, children," said their mother. "Jack is coming
to sit beside me. He's my boy this afternoon."

"Mother, we will all share him," said Patricia, placing chairs near her
mother. "I must talk about the match, I simply must."

A shadow for a moment wiped the brightness from the face and eyes of
the elder sister, but yielding to her mother's appeal, she joined the
circle, saying to Maitland,

"I don't believe you want to talk about the match, do you? That