"Most awfully," he assured her warmly. "I shall always remember what a
happy leave they gave me."

She gave a little sigh of satisfaction, "I am so glad," she said. "They
wanted you to have a good time--that was what we all wanted."

He looked at her gratefully, thinking how sweet she was in her fair
English beauty, and how good to care that he should have enjoyed his
leave. How different she was too from Sally Berkeley--why she would have
made two of his little girl! And how quiet! Sally Berkeley, with her
quick glancing vivacity, would have been all around her and off again
like a humming-bird before she could have uttered two words. And yet he
was sure that they would have been friends, just as he and Chev were.
Perhaps they all would be, after the war. And then he began to talk
about Chev, being sure that, had the circumstances been reversed, Sally
Berkeley would have wanted news of him. Instantly he was aware of a
tense listening stillness on her part. That pleased him. Well, she did
care for the old fellow all right, he thought; and though she made no
response, averting her face and plucking nervously at the leaves of the
hedge as they passed slowly along, he went on pouring out his eager
admiration for his friend.

At last they came to a seat in an arbour, from which one looked out upon
a green beneficent landscape. It was an intimate secluded little
spot--and oh, if Sally Berkeley were only there to sit beside him! And
as he thought of this, it came to him whimsically that in all
probability she must be longing for Chev, just as he was for Sally.

Dropping down on the bench beside her, he leaned over, and said with a