"And I should be very much obliged to you if you would keep what you thought about me to yourself. I don't want you to talk about it in the village or anywhere. Come up and see me--at the farm--and I'll tell you why I dislike being mixed up with that woman--why, in fact, I should mind it dreadfully. I can't explain now, but--" The young man was fairly dazzled by the beauty of the sudden flush on her pale cheeks, of her large pleading eyes, her soft voice. And this--as old Betts had only that afternoon told him--was the lady engaged to his own superior officer, Captain Ellesborough, the Commandant of Ralstone Camp, whom he heartily admired, and stood in considerable awe of! His vanity, of which he possessed so large a share, was much tickled; but, also, his feelings were touched. "Why, of course, ma'am, won't say anything. I didn't mean any harm." "All right," said Rachel, scrambling back to her seat. "If you like to come up to-morrow morning, I shall be pleased to see you. It's a bargain, mind!" He saluted, smiling. She nodded to him, and drove off. "Well, that's the rummiest go!" said the bewildered Dempsey to himself, as he walked towards his bicycle. "Mistake be damned! She _was_ Mrs. Delane, and what's she up to now with my captain? And what the deuce was she doing at Tanner's?" Never did a person feel himself more vastly important than Dempsey as he bicycled back to the Ralstone camp, whence he had started in the morning, after the peace news, to go and see a cousin living some distance beyond Great End Farm. To be his grandfather's grandson was much--but _this_! Rachel drove, with hands unconscious of the reins, along the road and up the farm lane leading through her own fields. The world swam around her in the mist, but there, still in front of her, lay the illuminated farm, a house of light standing in air. As she neared it, the front door opened and sounds of singing and laughter came out. The "Marseillaise"! _Allons, enfants de la patrie!_--Janet was playing it, singing vigorously herself, and trying to teach the two girls the French words, a performance which broke down every other minute in helpless laughter from all three. Meanwhile, Hastings, who had been standing behind the singers, his hands in his pockets, a rare and shamefaced pleasure shining from his care-worn face, thought he heard the cart, and looked out. Yes, it was the Missis, as he liked to call Miss Henderson, and he ran down to meet her. "Well, I suppose there were fine doings at Millsborough, Miss," he said, as he held the horse for her to get down. "Yes--there were a lot of people. It was very noisy." "We thought you'd hear our noise, Miss, as far as the road! Miss Leighton, she's been keeping us all alive. She took the girls to church--to the Thanksgiving Service, while I looked after things." "All right, Hastings," said Miss Henderson, in a voice that struck his ear strangely. "Thank you. Will you take the cart?"