Noel only smiled.

"Have you the least idea what marriage means?"

Noel nodded.

"Really?"

"Of course. Gratian is married. Besides, at school--"

"Your father is dead against it. This is a sad thing for him. He's a
perfect saint, and you oughtn't to hurt him. Can't you wait, at least
till Cyril's next leave?"

"He might never have one, you see."

The heart of her whose boys were out there too, and might also never
have another leave; could not but be responsive to those words. She
looked at her niece, and a dim appreciation of this revolt of life
menaced by death, of youth threatened with extinction, stirred in her.
Noel's teeth were clenched, her lips drawn back, and she was staring in
front of her.

"Daddy oughtn't to mind. Old people haven't to fight, and get killed;
they oughtn't to mind us taking what we can. They've had their good
time."

It was such a just little speech that Thirza answered: