different." He thoughtfully drained his tea cup,
and set it down again, and for a space neither of them spoke.

"I can't help laughing at the comparison," said Margaret suddenly.
"Five years ago you and I were sitting in Rumpolmayer's, surrounded by
sugar cakes, being smart."

"They're doing that now in London except for the sugar cakes."

"We shouldn't have been silent for a moment, and we should have enjoyed
ourselves thoroughly . . . I wonder--"

"It was our only standard, wasn't it?"

"And now we can sit over a cup of weak and nasty tea--without milk and
not talk for effect. . . . What's going to happen, Derek, to you and
me afterwards? We can never go back to it?"

"No--you can't put back the clock--and we've grown, Margaret, years and
years older. So have thousands of others--the boys up yonder, their
people at home. But what about the business train to Brighton, and the
occupants thereof? . . . Have they felt this war, except to make a bit
more boodle out of it?"

"They're only a small minority."

"Are they? They're a damned powerful one." He laughed a little
bitterly. "And they're artificial--just like we were before the war."

"That's why it's we who have got to do the rebuilding. Even if it's
only the rebuilding the house in our own little tiny circle, with
simplicity and reality as the keystones. . . . You see, if you get
enough tiny circles sound and good, in time the others may
follow. . . ."

"Dear lady, you've become very optimistic." Vane's eyes smiled at her.
"Let's hope you're right." He paused and looked at her quietly.
"Margaret. I've never asked you before--but you're different now--so
different. Incidentally so am I. What was it, that made you alter so
suddenly?"

Margaret rose to her feet, and shook her head. "I'll tell you some
day, Derek, perhaps. Not just now. I must be getting back to the
hospital."

"Will you come out and have tea with me to-morrow?" For a few moments
she looked at him as if undecided, and then suddenly she seemed to make
up her mind.

"All right," she said with a smile. "I'll come, I want to deal with
this jaundice of yours. One must live up to a professional reputation."

CHAPTER II

A hospital is much the same anywhere, and number 13 General at Etaples
was no exception. On each side of the big marquee ran a row of beds in
perfect dressing. The sheets were turned down on the design so ably
portrayed in the War Office Sealed