‘It will beat itself away, I suppose, like the rest of the unreasonable pain of the world,’ she said at last; and that, of course, brought me to her side. ‘Things will go back to their proportions. This,’ she touched an open rose, ‘will claim its beauty again. And life will become--perhaps--what it was before.’ Still I found nothing to say, I could only put my arm in hers and walk with her to the edge of the veranda where the syce was holding her horse. She stroked the animal’s neck. ‘Everything in me answered him,’ she informed me, with the grave intelligence of a patient who relates a symptom past. As she took the reins she turned to me again. ‘His spirit came to mine like a homing bird,’ she said, and in her smile even the pale reflection of happiness was sweet and stirring. It left me hanging in imagination over the source and the stream, a little blessed in the mere understanding. Too much blessed for confidence, or any safe feeling that the source was bound. Rather I saw it leaping over every obstacle, flashing to its destiny. As I drove to the Club next day I decided that I would not tell Anna Chichele of Colonel Harbottle’s projected furlough. If to Judy telling her would be like taking an oath that they would go, to me it would at least be like assuming sponsorship for their intention. That would be heavy indeed. From the first of April--we were then in March. Anna would hear it soon enough from the General, would see it soon enough, almost, in the ‘Gazette’, when it would have passed into irrecoverable fact. So I went by her with locked lips, kept out of the way of those eyes of the mother that asked and asked, and would have seen clear to any depth, any hiding-place of knowledge like that. As I pulled up at the Club I saw Colonel Harbottle talking concernedly to the wife of our Second-in-Command, and was reminded that I had not heard for some days how Major Watkins was going on. So I, too, approached Mrs. Watkins in her victoria to ask. Robert Harbottle kindly forestalled her reply. ‘Hard luck, isn’t it? Watkins has been ordered home at once. Just settled into their new house, too--last of the kit came up from Calcutta yesterday, didn’t it, Mrs. Watkins? But it’s sound to go--Peshawur is the worst hole in Asia to shake off dysentery in.’ We agreed upon this and discussed the sale-list of her new furniture that Mrs. Watkins would have to send round the station, and considered the chances of a trooper--to the Watkinses with two children and not a penny but his pay it did make it easier not to have to go by a liner--and Colonel Harbottle and I were halfway to the reading-room before the significance of Major Watkins’s sick-leave flashed upon me. ‘But this,’ I cried, ‘will make a difference to your plans. You won’t--’ ‘Be able to ask for that furlough Judy wants. Rather not. I’m afraid she’s disappointed--she was tremendously set on going--but it doesn’t matter tuppence to me.’