With a great weight off her mind, Marjorie handed the letter to Dona, and hurried off to look for Winifrede to tell her the good news. As she was not in the quadrangle, Marjorie went into the library on the chance of finding her there. The room was empty, though Miss Duckworth had just been in to put up fresh notices. Almost automatically Marjorie strolled up, and began to read them. A Roll of Honour was kept at Brackenfield, where the names of relations of past and present girls were recorded. It was rewritten every week, so as to keep it up to date. She knew that Larry would be mentioned in this last list. Thank God that it was only among the wounded. The "killed" came first. ADAMS, Captain N. H., 4th Staffordshires (fiance of Dorothy Craig). HUNT, Captain J. C., Welsh Borderers (brother of Sophy Hunt). JACKSON, Lieut. P., 3rd Lancashires (husband of Mabel Irving). KEARY, Private P. L., Irish Brigade (brother of Eileen Keary). PRESTON, Private H., West Yorks (brother of Kathleen and Joyce Preston). Marjorie stopped suddenly. Private Preston--the humorous dark-eyed young soldier whose acquaintance she had made in the train, and renewed in the Red Cross Hospital. Surely it could not be he! Alas! it was only too plain. She knew he was the brother of Kathleen and Joyce Preston, for he had himself mentioned that his sisters used to be at Brackenfield. Also he was certainly in the West Yorkshire regiment. This bright, strong, clever, capable young life sacrificed! Marjorie felt as if she had received a personal blow. Oh, the war was cruel--cruel! Death was picking England's fairest flowers indeed. A certain chapter in her life, which had seemed to promise many very sweet hopes, was now for ever closed. "They might have put his V.C. on the list," she said to herself. "I wish I knew where he's buried. I shall never forget him--though I only saw him twice. He was quite different from anyone else I've ever met." Somehow Marjorie did not feel capable of mentioning Private Preston to anybody, even to Dona. She had kept the little newspaper photograph of him which had been cut out of the _Onlooker_, when he won his V.C. She enclosed it in an envelope and put it within the leaves of her Bible. That seemed the most appropriate place for it. She could not leave it amongst the portraits of her other war heroes, for fear her room-mates might refer to it. To discuss him now with Betty or Sylvia would be a desecration. His death was a wound that would not bear handling. For some days afterwards she was unusually quiet. The girls thought she was fretting about her brother, and tried to cheer her up, for Larry's bulletins were excellent, and he seemed to be making a wonderful recovery.