“Good news!” she cried. “Word of Con at last.” “Oh, Al, I _am_ so glad,” and she burst into tears. “Why, Lo, dear, what’s up? It’s good news----” “Uncle Tony has just died. Mother was just writing a telegram to send to you.” “I am not surprised, dear,” said Alma, putting her arm round her. “I had very little hope of his pulling through. He was an old man, you see. I am sure he was not very sorry to go; though he would have liked to see the end of this war, I know. And I do wish he had heard about Con. He would have been so glad. However, he knows more about it all now than any of us, and that will please him mightily,” and they went in together. So the good news and the bad--nay, why call the news of a good man’s promotion bad news?--let us say, the other news tended to counteract one another in the hearts of those who were left. Indeed the net result that remained with them all was a sense of thankfulness,--for the peaceful passing of the fine full life, and for the young life spared for further work. Alma’s letter was not from Con himself, which at first sight was disturbing. But the contents explained. Lieutenant Dare had been wounded--in the hand, the writer said,--at Landrecies during the retreat from Mons. He was now a prisoner in Germany--at Torgau, and was being well looked after. He was making good recovery from his wounds which had been severe, and they were all hoping that something might presently be arranged in the way of an exchange of medical-staff prisoners. The writer signed himself Robert Grant, R.A.M.C. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is,” said Alma. “I almost danced when I got it. It’s worry that kills, and I was beginning to worry about the boy. What about Ray?” “It’s ten days since my last letter,” said Lois. “I’m hoping for the next every minute.... Do you know, Al, just at the very last, when Uncle Tony knew the end had come, he said, ‘Good lad, Ray! He will come back to you. And Con--good lad too! God bless you all!--all!’--that was almost the last thing he said.” “The dear old man!... We will take it as a good omen.... I think, you know, that just at the last they often have an outlook--a forelook--altogether beyond our understanding. They see with other eyes than ours.” “Undoubtedly!” agreed Mrs. Dare. Alma’s stay, even under the circumstances, could not be a long one. They had had forty-nine wounded officers in, two days before, many of their nurses had gone to the front, and they were very short-handed. Lois walked down to the station with her, and they talked in quiet sisterly fashion of the past, present, and future. “It is very curious how things seem to work together at times,” said Lois. “Always, maybe, if we knew more about it all, dear.” “Yes, I suppose so. Here have I been so taken up with nursing Uncle Tony that I really have never had time to get anxious about Ray.” “Ray will be all right, you’ll see. I pin my faith to Uncle Tony’s vision.”