"No," replied their hostess. "Nothing, except that the hospital ships went out last night. I expect the Destroyers got back some time before the big ships, and we shall hear later in the day. Rob will telegraph to me directly he gets into harbour, I know." She spoke with calm conviction, as if wars and rumours of wars held no terrors for her. "And now," she said, smiling to them both, "let's be charwomen and drink tea in the middle of the forenoon!" She moved to the door and opened it, and as she did so a knock sounded along the tiny passage from the door that opened into the street. Eileen Cavendish was busy in front of the glass, and half turned, holding a diminutive powder-box in one hand and a scrap of swans-down in the other. "Yes," they heard the voice of Mrs. Gascoigne saying in the passage, "I'm here--is that for me?" There was the sound of paper tearing and a little silence. Then they heard her voice again. "Have you any others in your wallet--is there one for Mrs. Standish or Mrs. Cavendish? They're both here." "I hae ane for Mistress Cavendish," replied a boy's clear treble. "An' there was ane for Mistress Standish a while syne; it's biding at her hoose." Betty jumped to her feet. "What's that?" she cried. "A telegram?" Mrs. Gascoigne entered the room holding an orange-coloured envelope and handed it to Eileen Cavendish. "Yours is at your lodging," she said to Betty. Her face was very pale. With trembling fingers Mrs. Cavendish tore open the envelope. She gave a quick glance at the contents and sat down abruptly. Then, with her hands at her side, burst into peals of hysterical laughter. "Oh," she cried, "it's all right, it's all right! Bill's safe----" and her laughter turned to tears. "And I knew it all along..." she sobbed. "Oh," said Betty, "I _am_ glad." She slipped her arm round Mrs. Cavendish's neck and kissed her. "And now I'm just going to rush up to my rooms to get my message." She paused on her way to the door. "Mrs. Gascoigne," she said, "did you get any news--is your husband all right?" Mrs. Gascoigne was opening the window with her back to the room and its occupants. "He's very happy," she replied gently. Betty ran out into the sunlit street and overtook the red-headed urchin who was returning to the post office with the demeanour of a man suddenly thrust into unaccustomed prominence in the world. Furthermore, he had found the stump of a cigarette in the gutter, and was smoking it with an air. He grinned reassuringly at Betty as she hurried breathlessly past him. "Dinna fash yersel', Mistress," he called. "Yeer man's bonny an' weel." Betty halted irresolutely. "How do you know?" she gasped. "A juist keeked inside the bit envelope," came the unblushing reply. * * * * *