dull dog that I had labelled him. By diligent and sympathetic
enquiry I learned that he had been a Natural Science scholar at
Trinity College, Cambridge, where he had taken a first-class
degree--specialising in geology; that by profession (his
father's) he was a mining-engineer, and, in pursuit of his
vocation, had travelled in Galicia, Mexico and Japan; furthermore,
that he had been one of the ardent little band who of recent years
had made the Cambridge Officers Training Corps an effective
school. Hitherto, when I had met him he had sat so agreeably
smiling and modestly mumchance that I had accepted him at his face
value.

I was amused to see how Betty, in order to bring confusion on me,
led him to proclaim himself. And I loved the manner in which he
did so. To hear him, one would have thought that he owed
everything in the world to Betty--from his entrance scholarship at
the University to the word of special commendation which his
company had received from the General of his Division at last
week's inspection. Yes, he was the modest, clean-bred, simple
English gentleman who, without self-consciousness or self-seeking,
does his daily task as well as it can be done, just because it is
the thing that is set before him to do. And he was over head and
ears in love with Betty.

I took it upon myself to dismiss her with a nod after she had
smoked a cigarette over her coffee. Mrs. Marigold, as a soldier's
wife, I announced, had a world of invaluable advice to give her.
Willie Connor opened the door. On the threshold she said very
prettily: