"Oh, he's very distinguished. He's done a lot of fighting--India, Egypt, South Africa. He first made his name in the Kala Kin Expedition, in command of the Flying Column. And he invented a great improvement in gun-carriages--he's a gunner, you know--and----" "I think," interrupted Winnie, with a saucy air of doubt, "that I meant something about him--and you, Mrs. Lenoir." "There's nothing to tell. We're just friends, and we've never been anything else." Winnie was sitting on a stool in front of the fire, smoking her Ledstone-learnt cigarette (destined, apparently, to be the only visible legacy of that episode). She looked up at Mrs. Lenoir, still with that air of doubt. "Well, why shouldn't I tell you?" said the lady. "He wanted something else, and I wouldn't." "Were you in love with somebody else?" "No, but he'd brought those boys--they were just schoolboys then--to see me, and it--it seemed a shame. He knew it was a shame too, but--well, you know what happens sometimes. But, quite soon after, his wife fell ill, and died in four or five days--pneumonia. Then he was glad. But he went abroad directly--without seeing me--and was abroad many years. When he came home and retired, I met him by accident, and he asked leave to call. He's very lonely--so am I rather--and he likes a change from the club. I don't wonder! And, as you'll have gathered, we've known all the same people in the old days, and always have lots to talk about. That's the story, Winnie." "I like it. Do you ever see the sons?" "They all come to see me when they're home on leave; but that's not often." "The Major's coming next week, though. The General said so. Let's see if I've got them right. There's the Major--he's the eldest--in Egypt. But the second one is cleverer, and has become a colonel first; he's in Malta now. And then the one in India has only just got his troop; he ought to have had it before, but they thought he gave too much time to polo, and horse-racing, and private theatricals." "That's Georgie--my favourite," said Mrs. Lenoir. "I'm for the Major--because I think it's a shame that his younger brother should be made a colonel before him. I'm glad it's the Major that's coming home on leave next month." Mrs. Lenoir looked at Winnie, and patted herself on the back. All this was much better for Winnie than the empty studio. She knew that the animation was in part an effort, the gaiety in some measure assumed--and bravely assumed. But every moment rescued from brooding was, to Mrs. Lenoir's mind, so much to the good. According to some other ways of thinking, of course, a little brooding might have done Winnie good, and would certainly have been no more than she deserved. Coffee came in, and, quick on its heels, the General. He produced his cigar, and advanced his invariable and invariably apologetic request.