It was a heavenly July afternoon, and the two were following Richie and the children down one of the mountain roads above Mill Valley. Barbara, who had acquired an Englishwoman's love of nursery picnics, had lured her husband to join them to-day, and Julia had been pleasantly surprised to see how fatherly the Captain was with his small boys, how willing to go for water and tie dragging little shoe laces. But presently the soldier grew restless, stared about him for a few moments, and finally decided to leave the ladies and children to Richie's escort, and walk to the summit of the mountain and back, as a means of working off some excess of energy and gaining an appetite for dinner. He apparently did not hear Barbara's warning not to be late, and her entreaty to be careful, merely giving her a stolid glance in answer to these eager suggestions, and remarking to the boys, who begged to accompany him a little way: "Naow, naow, I tell you you carn't, so don't make little arsses of yourselves blabbering abaout it!" This, however, was taken in good part by his family; there was much waving of hands and many shouted good wishes as he walked rapidly out of hearing. "Poor Francis, I hope he's going to enjoy his walk," Barbara said, as they started homeward. "He gets so bored out here in California!" "I wonder why?" Julia said, hiding a Californian's resentment. "Oh, well, it _is_ different, Ju--you can't deny it! One wants to be loyal, and all that," Barbara said, "but in England there's a _purpose_--there's a recognized order to life! They're not eternally experimenting; they don't want to be idle and ignorant like our women--they've got better things to do. There's a finish and a pleasantness about life in London; men have more leisure to take an interest in women's work; why, you've no idea how many interesting, clever, charming men I know in London! How many does one know here? And as for the _women_--" It was then Julia said: "Ah, well, you're different from other women. You're so busy--and necessary--and unself-conscious, Barbara. You make other women seem such fools!" "Not necessarily," said Barbara, smiling. "And don't think I'm horribly conceited, Julia, talking this way. It's only to you!" They walked a little way without speaking, and then Barbara sat down on a low bank, some quarter of a mile above Richie's cabin, and added: "Do sit down, Ju. You and I are never alone, and I want to talk to you. Julie, don't be angry--it's about Jim." Julia's eyes immediately widened, her lips met firmly, she grew a little pale. "Go ahead," she said steadily. "Have you seen him?" Barbara answered the question with another. "You knew he was in London?" "No," said Julia, "I didn't know it." She had remained standing, and now Barbara urged her again to sit down. But Julia would not, pleading that she would rather walk, and in the end Barbara got up, and they began slowly to walk down the road together. "Tell me," Julia commanded then.