"Oh, Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle," cried Esther, "I can never tell you how bad I have been--" but she found herself clasped in a warm embrace that told of pity and love and sympathy unbounded. Mademoiselle asked no questions, but the whole story had to be told. Esther knew she would know no rest until she had unburthened her heart and humbled herself, and was possessed by a feeling that if she did not do it then she might never again be able to. And Mademoiselle, with complete understanding, let her talk. "I saw her fall. I heard her scream. She tried to get up, but was knocked down again. She called 'Esther, Esther,' but I couldn't help her--and I thought she was being killed. Oh, Mademoiselle, I shall never be able to forget it--never, never, never!" and Esther clung to her, shaken with terror and the shock of all she had gone through. "Darling, you must try not to dwell upon it. You must try to be strong and brave, and get well, for Penelope will need you, and Angela and Poppy will need you--and Guard--" "Oh! Guard?" gasped Esther, afraid to ask the question which filled her mind. "Do you think you can bear to see him? He will be so much happier if he may be with you." "Then he is--all right?" breathlessly. "No, darling, not all right. He has come out of the battle alive, which is more than one could have dared to hope; but he is badly injured. You will not be shocked by the sight of bandages, will you? Guard looks a poor old battered warrior at present, but we hope he will soon recover." A battered warrior indeed did he look as he came creeping, limping in, his head bound up in bandages, one leg in a splint, and bandages about his body and chest where big gashes had been stitched and strapped up. His pain was so great he could scarcely drag himself in, but he crept forward, wagging his tail bravely; and when Esther laughed a little weak, almost tearful laugh, at the sight of his long nose coming out of his 'nightcap,' as she called it, he smiled and wagged his tail again, and tried to raise himself to kiss her. The other victim Esther did not see until the next day, for Penelope was too ill to bear anything more that night, and when Esther went into the sickroom the next day she could hardly recognise her bonnie, smiling sister in the pale, bandaged face on the pillow, so drawn with pain, so dark about the eyes, so wan and changed in even that short time. She was too weak and exhausted even then to speak much, but the old smile flickered for a moment in her tired eyes, and the sound arm was stretched out to creep around Esther's neck. "I am all--all right," she whispered. "I shall be well--soon. It isn't-- so very--bad, now." "Pen," Esther whispered back in an agony, "oh, Pen, you don't know all, but--I'll never, never--" Penelope put up her lips to be kissed. "Never--mind," she whispered faintly. "Nothing shall--ever--come between us--again, shall it, dear?"