Yet Frank and Bryan were so utterly unlike in temperament. To say that Frank was an Englishman and Bryan an Irishman explains a great deal. Frank was quieter and more reserved and determined; but Bryan was ardent and emotional, quick to feel an emotion and quick to change. Jack had always felt that he loved the outdoors as she did, while Frank was studious, more devoted to books and to political questions than to swift action. At the same time Frank and his wife were thinking along similar lines, although his recollection of his friend went further back than hers. He remembered the small boy, whose mother had just died, coming to live with his old bachelor guardian in the queer little house which had since belonged to him. He also remembered how shy he had been and yet how often he had gotten into fights with other boys. But, more than anything, he recalled how Bryan had always seemed to long for the companionship of women and how happy he had been to come to Kent House and spend hours and days with his mother and sisters. This was one of the reasons why it had always seemed strange to Frank that his friend had never married. "But the news only said that Bryan was fatally hurt--not that things were over?" Jack asked after their long pause. "Yes; but I'm afraid he may be by now," Frank answered. "I have sent half a dozen cables for more news." Jack's grey eyes cleared a little. "Then I won't believe the worst until it really happens." On their arrival at home Olive and Frieda were sympathetic, but naturally could not care as much as Jack and Frank, since Captain MacDonnell was to them only a comparatively new acquaintance. But all evening Frieda watched her sister closely, whenever she had the opportunity without being observed. Only a few times before had she seen her with the same expression. Half a dozen or more of the neighbors came in after dinner to ask for further information concerning Captain MacDonnell, having heard the news only indirectly. But among them all Jack was the only one who appeared hopeful. She outwardly showed the effect of the anxiety and grief over their friend far less than Frank. But Frieda at least realized that courage was her sister's strongest characteristic. There had always been something gallant about Jack from the time she was a little girl--the carriage of her head; the look in her eyes--everything about her revealed this. And tonight Frieda appreciated the fact more clearly than any one else. There was no friend in the world so loyal as Jack; and no one more anxious to help those for whom she cared. Frieda knew that whatever else she might say during the evening, she was in reality thinking only of her husband's friend and her own, alone and dying, perhaps with no one near him for whom he cared. As early as possible Jack and Frank went upstairs together, since Frank showed the effect of the strain by being uncommonly tired.