"You haven't given me a chance to get a word in yet," he said, smiling gravely. They all laughed, ready to be pleased at the smallest joke, and banter was the only form of humour they knew. "Are you tired?" asked Mary, her cheerful eyes softening. "A little." "Well, I won't worry you to-night; but to-morrow you must be put through your paces." "Mary will stand no nonsense," said the Colonel, laughing gently. "We all have to do as she tells us. She'll turn you round her little finger." "Will she?" said James, glancing down at the solid boots, which the short bicycle skirt rather obtrusively exposed to view. "Don't frighten him the moment he comes home," cried Mary. "As a matter of fact, I shan't be able to come to-morrow morning; I've got my district-visiting to do, and I don't think Jamie is strong enough to go with me yet. Does your wound hurt you still, Jamie?" "No," he said, "I can't use my arm much, though. It'll be all right soon." "You must tell us about the great event to-morrow," said Mary, referring to the deed which had won him the decoration. "You've put us all out by coming sooner than you were expected." "Have I? I'm sorry." "Didn't you notice anything when you drove in this evening?" "No, it was quite dark." "Good heavens! Why, we've put up a triumphal arch, and there was going to be a great celebration. All the school children were coming to welcome you." "I'm very glad I missed it," said James, laughing. "I should have hated it." "Oh, I don't know that you have missed it yet. We must see." Then Mary rose to go. "Well, at all events, we're all coming to dinner to-morrow at one." They went to the door to let her out, and the elder couple smiled again with pleasure when James and Mary exchanged a brotherly and sisterly kiss. * * * At last James found himself alone in his room; he gave a sigh of relief--a sigh which was almost a groan of pain. He took out his pipe unconsciously and filled it; but then, remembering where he was, put it down. He knew his father's sensitiveness of smell. If he began to smoke there would quickly be a knock at the door, and the inquiry: "There's such a smell of burning in the house; there's nothing on fire in your room, is there, Jamie?" He began to walk up and down, and then in exhaustion sank on a chair. He opened the window and looked into the night. He could see nothing. The sky was dark with unmoving clouds, but the fresh air blew gratefully against his face, laden with the scent of the vernal country; a light rain was falling noiselessly, and the earth seemed languid and weary, accepting the moisture with little shuddering gasps of relief.