"He only came home last Tuesday with dispatches from the front," she
said. "This is his first day out."

"Ah! but he is wounded, perhaps?" Madame Selarne inquired
solicitously.

"In the left arm and the right leg," Lady Anselman assented. "I
believe that he has seen some terrible fighting, and we are very
proud of his D. S. O. The only trouble is that he is like all the
others--he will tell us nothing."

"He shows excellent judgment," Lord Romsey observed.

Lady Anselman glanced at her august guest a little querulously.

"That is the principle you go on, nowadays, isn't it?" she remarked.
"I am not sure that you are wise. When one is told nothing, one fears
the worst, and when time after time the news of these small disasters
reaches us piecemeal, about three weeks late, we never get rid of our
forebodings, even when you tell us about victories. . . . Ah! Here he
comes at last," she added, holding out both her hands to the young
man who was making his somewhat difficult way towards them. "Ronnie,
you are a few minutes late but we're not in the least cross with you.
Do you know that you are looking better already? Come and tell me
whom you don't know of my guests and I'll introduce you."

The young man, leaning upon his stick, greeted his aunt and murmured
a word of apology. He was very fair, and with a slight, reddish
moustache and the remains of freckles upon his face. His grey eyes