chocolate, various much advertised food tabloids, and his favourite
biscuits. Sarratt laughed over them, but had not the heart to dissuade
her. She grew paler every day, but was always gay and smiling so long as
his eyes were on her; and his sound young sleep knew nothing of her
quiet stifled weeping at those moments of the night, when the bodily and
nervous forces are at their lowest, and all the future blackens. Miss
Martin paid them several visits, bringing them books and flowers. Books
and flowers too arrived from Carton--with a lavish supply of cigarettes
for the departing soldier. Nelly had the piteous sense that everyone was
sorry for her--Mrs. Weston, the kind landlady, Milly, the little
housemaid. It seemed to her sometimes that the mere strangers she met in
the road knew that George was going, and looked at her compassionately.

The last day came, showery in the morning, and clearing to a glorious
evening, with all the new leaf and growing hayfields freshened by rain,
and all the streams brimming. Bridget came over in the afternoon, and as
she watched her sister's face, became almost kind, almost sympathetic.
George proposed to walk back part of the way to Ambleside with his
sister-in-law, and Nelly with a little frown of alarm watched them go.

But the tête-à-tête was not disagreeable to either. Bridget was taken
aback, to begin with, by some very liberal proposals of Sarratt's on the
subject of her and Nelly's joint expenses during his absence. She was to
be Nelly's guest--they both wished it--and he said kindly that he
quite understood Nelly's marriage had made a difference to her, and he
hoped she would let them make it up to her, as far and as soon as they
could. Bridget was surprised into amiability,--and Sarratt found a
chance of saying--

'And you'll let Nelly talk about the war--though it does bore you? She