'You thought that I was dead.' His voice deep and grave, was as the voice of a stranger. 'Never; I could not believe it; others might, I never did.' 'Faithful old Willie.' He smiled, and then it was Cuthbert again. I wanted to push him down into the arm-chair in the chimney-corner, and tried to welcome him in such broken words as I could find. Was it very strange that, in the quick rush of joy at seeing his face once more, I forgot Hildred for a moment--forgot all but that my brother had come home? His next words brought all back. He put his hand on my shoulder and said 'Hildred?' and I felt his grasp tighten as if he tried to steady himself. 'She is at home, and well.' He drew a long breath without speaking, and my words too were checked. 'I am going to her,' he said next. 'Oh Cuthbert, stop--remember. She knows nothing, she has long given you up. It will kill her if you come upon her suddenly.' Cuthbert pushed away my hand with a smile. 'Joy does not kill,' he said. Joy! I do not know which I thought of at that moment, joy or sorrow, Cuthbert or Hildred, the sudden shock of their meeting to her, or the blow it might bring to him. 'Let me go to her first,' I said eagerly: 'let me tell her.' I do not know what I meant to do. I think I had some wild idea of imploring her to love him. Cuthbert looked surprised. 'No, no,' he said, 'I want to see her first glad look. Don't keep me.' I suppose in my perturbation I was going to follow him, for he stopped and said, 'Let me go alone, Will. Dear old fellow, I don't want even you when I first see my Hildred.' I let him go--let him go to her whom he called his own. He was right--his, not mine. And I had been so madly glad to see him! Cuthbert was not gone for very long. He came in slowly, came up to me, and--he had not done it since we were little boys together--bent down and kissed me. My heart was beating hard and fast. 'You have seen her?' 'Yes'--he sank down wearily into a chair--'I have seen her.' 'Well?' 'Well'--he looked up and smiled rather sadly--'Well, the joy did not kill her, you see.' 'She was glad?' 'I hope so. I hope so indeed.' 'What then, Cuthbert? Did she know you?' He leant down his head on the table, and suddenly burst into tears. My whole heart went back to him. 'Cuthbert--what is it?' He spoke almost directly. 'I am a worn-out old soldier. I have lost my arm. I am good for nothing now, and I think she was disappointed in me.' Oh Cuthbert, whom in my heart I had almost hated just now--true soldier, faithful heart--to see his brave head bent low. He should be happy whatever became of me.