truck surveying the world. That was one of his great and absorbing
occupations: to stand and look out on things in general. Joe, also
standing on the truck, also turned round to look what was to be seen. But
he could not become blankly absorbed, as Albert could.

Miss Stokes watched the two men from under her broad felt hat. She had
seen hundreds of Alberts, khaki soldiers standing in loose attitudes,
absorbed in watching nothing in particular. She had seen also a good many
Joes, quiet, good-looking young soldiers with half-averted faces. But
there was something in the turn of Joe's head, and something in his
quiet, tender-looking form, young and fresh--which attracted her eye. As
she watched him closely from below, he turned as if he felt her, and his
dark-blue eye met her straight, light-blue gaze. He faltered and turned
aside again and looked as if he were going to fall off the truck. A
slight flush mounted under the girl's full, ruddy face. She liked him.

Always, after this, when she came into the sidings with her team, it was
Joe she looked for. She acknowledged to herself that she was sweet on
him. But Albert did all the talking. He was so full of fun and nonsense.
Joe was a very shy bird, very brief and remote in his answers. Miss
Stokes was driven to indulge in repartee with Albert, but she fixed her
magnetic attention on the younger fellow. Joe would talk with Albert, and
laugh at his jokes. But Miss Stokes could get little out of him. She had
to depend on her silent forces. They were more effective than might be
imagined.

Suddenly, on Saturday afternoon, at about two o'clock, Joe received a
bolt from the blue--a telegram: 'Meet me Belbury Station 6.00 p.m. today.
M.S.' He knew at once who M.S. was. His heart melted, he felt weak as if
he had had a blow.