The three reached the theatre in what even Archie called good time. This meant to be alone in the dark, gloomy theatre for at least twenty minutes, no-one present as yet, except two or three people eating oranges in the gallery. He liked to be the first and the last. Edith was fancying to herself how Madame Frabelle would lay down the law about the history of Kingston, and read portions of the guide-book aloud, while Bruce was pointing out the scenery. The entertainment, which was all odds and ends, entertained the children, but rather bored her. Archie was learning by heart--which was a way he had--the words of a favourite song now being sung-- 'Kitty, Kitty, isn't it a pity, In the city you work so hard,-- With your one, two, three, four, five, Six, three, seven, five, Cerrard? Kitty, Kitty, isn't it a pity, That you're wasting so much time? With your lips close to the telephone, When they might be close to mine_!' When Edith's eye was suddenly attracted by the appearance of a boy in khakis, who was in a box to her right. He looked about seventeen and was tall and good-looking; but what struck her about him was his remarkable likeness in appearance and in movement to Aylmer Ross. Even his back reminded her strongly of her hero. There was something familiar in the thick, broad shoulders, in the cool ease of manner, and in the expression of the face. But could that young man--why, of course, it was three years ago when she parted with Aylmer Ross, Teddy was fourteen; these years made a great difference and of course all plans had been changed on account of the war. Aylmer, she thought, was too old to have been at the front. The boy must be in the New Army. She watched him perpetually; she felt a longing to go and speak to him. After a while, as though attracted by her interest, he turned round and looked her straight in the face. How thrilled she felt at this likeness.... They were the very last to go out, and Edith contrived to be near the party in the box. She dropped something and the young man picked it up. She had never seen him, and yet she felt she knew him. When he smiled she could not resist speaking to him. 'Thank you. Excuse me. Are you the son of Mr. Aylmer Ross?' 'I am. And I know you quite well by your photograph,' he said in exactly Aylmer's pleasant, casual voice. 'You were a great friend of my father's, weren't you?' 'Yes. Where are you now?' He was at Aldershot, but was in town on leave. 'And where's your father?' 'Didn't you know? My father's at the front. He's coming over on leave, too, in a fortnight.' 'Really? And are you still at Jermyn Street?' 'Oh yes. Father let his house for three years, but we've come back again. Jolly little house, isn't it?' 'Very. And I hope we shall see you both,' said Edith conventionally. The boy bowed, smiled and walked away so quickly that Archie had no time for the salute he had prepared. He was wonderfully like Aylmer.