"Mr Macfarlane told us you were going to Europe," May said. "When do you sail? I've promised to write to half a dozen boys who have joined up for overseas." "I've changed my mind about that," he said. "There's work to be done out here first." Immediately their interest waned. "If I were a man, as I told Mr Macfarlane, I'd want to go where the big things are doing," May asserted. "I wouldn't be bothered with these horrid rebels." "Somebody must," he said, and refrained from further comment. It would be wasted labour, he felt, to question their point of view. "But it would be such a lark, going to Europe. It's the chance of a lifetime. I wish mother would let me go." "Nursing?" he inquired. "Oh, nursing! That's horrid work. No. I'd like to drive an ambulance wagon, or do something smart... and wear a uniform like the men." "Yes," he answered, and laughed. "I remember you had always a leaning towards fancy dress. I daresay you'll find something to do even here." "Oh! we're having a perfectly gorgeous time," put in Rosie, "And we are really working--not just stupid sewing meetings, you know, but hard work. We are organising a fancey fete for the relief of the poor Belgians. It will be great fun. We are raising the funds all right." "After that we start recruiting," May added, smiling. "The slackers will have a bad time of it. Every man ought to be a soldier." "You _are_ busy," he said, and wondered whether they ever took anything seriously. The war was not a world disaster, but a huge excitement with possibilities of interesting developments. It gave them something fresh to think about. "I turn in here," he added, pausing outside the gate leading to Brenda's lodging. Rosie's glance travelled towards the windows of the house, and then back again slowly to his face. "I suppose Miss Upton has had something to do in influencing your decision to remain out here?" she said. "She wouldn't like you to go to Europe." "She is satisfied either way," he answered. "Had I sailed for Europe she would have accompanied me. That was settled from the first." They parted from him unconvinced, and with a slight return of the chill displeasure he had grown to look for from them. The halt at Brenda's gate had seemed to them an affront. "Of course she stopped him from going," May declared. "She knows if she lets him out of her sight she risks losing him. She was always an artful little thing. I believe he would get out of that engagement if he could. It seems to have flattened him." "He hasn't been the same since," Rosie admitted, and looked away down the leafy avenue with sentimental eyes. "It's such a pity; he's so awfully good looking," she said, and sighed.