Butherememberedagreeablyherwhiteshouldersandthatturnofherneckwhenshelookedatyouwiththosebiggreyeyesofhers。Onlyafive—dayacquaintanceship，buttheyhadcrowdedmuchintoitasonedidinastrangeland。Theepisodehadbeenagreenanddangerousspot，likeoneofthosebrightmossybitsofbogwhenyouweresnipe—
　　shooting，tosetfootonwhichwastoletyoudownuptotheneck，atleast。Well，therewasnoneofthatdangernow，forherhusbandwasdead—poorchap！Itwouldbenice，inthesedismaldays，whennobodyspentanytimewhateverexceptintheserviceofthecountry，toimprovehispowersofservicebyafewhours’recreationinhersociety。’Whathumbugsweare！’hethought:’Toreadthenewspapersandthespeechesyou’dbelieveeverybodythoughtofnothingbuthowtogetkilledforthesakeofthefuture。Drunkonverbiage！WhatheadsandmouthsweshallallhavewhenwewakeupsomefinemorningwithPeaceshininginatthewindow！Ah！Ifonlywecould;andenjoyourselvesagain！’Andhegazedatthemoon。Shewasdippingalready，reelingawayintothedawn。Watercartsandstreetsweepershadcomeoutintotheglimmer;sparrowstwitteredintheeaves。Thecitywasraisingastrangeunknownfacetothegreylight，shutteredanddesertedasBabylon。JimmyForttappedouthispipe，sighed，andgotintobed。
　　2
　　Comingoffdutyatthatverymoment，LeilaLynchdecidedtohaveherhour’swalkbeforeshewenthome。Shewasinchargeoftwowards，andasaruletookthedaywatches;butsomeslightupsethadgivenherthisextraspell。Shewas，therefore，atherworst，orperhapsatherbest，aftereighteenhoursinhospital。Hercheekswerepale，andabouthereyeswerelittlelines，normallyinhiding。Therewasinthisfaceapuzzlingblendofthesoftandhard，fortheeyes，theratherfulllips，andpalecheeks，werenaturallysoft;buttheywerehardenedbytheself—containmentwhichgrowsonwomenwhohavetofacelifeforthemselves，and，consciousofbeauty，intendtokeepit，inspiteofage。Herfigurewascontradictory，also;itssoftmodellingalittletoorigidifiedbystays。Inthisdesertofthedawnsheletherlongblueovercoatflaploose，andswungherhatonafinger，sothatherlight—brown，touched—uphairtookthemorningbreezewithfluffyfreedom。Thoughshecouldnotseeherself，sheappreciatedherappearance，swayingalonglikethat，pastlonelytreesandhouses。ApitytherewasnoonetoseeherinthatroundofRegent’sPark，whichtookherthebestpartofanhour，walkinginmeditation，enjoyingthecolourcomingbackintotheworld，asifespeciallyforher。
　　TherewascharacterinLeilaLynch，andshehadlivedaninterestinglifefromacertainpointofview。InhergirlhoodshehadflutteredtheheartsofmanybesidesCousinEdwardPierson，andateighteenhadmadeapassionatelovematchwithagood—lookingyoungIndiancivilian，namedFane。Theyhadlovedeachothertoastandstillintwelvemonths。Thenhadbegunfiveyearsofpetulance，boredom，andgrowingcynicism，withincreasingspellsofSimla，andvoyageshomeforherhealthwhichwasreallyharmedbytheheat。Allhadculminated，ofcourse，inanotherpassionforariflemancalledLynch。Divorcehadfollowed，remarriage，andthentheBoerWar，inwhichhehadbeenbadlywounded。Shehadgoneoutandnursedhimbacktohalfhisrobusthealth，and，attwenty—eight，takenuplifewithhimonanup—countryfarminCapeColony。Thismiddleperiodhadlastedtenyears，betweenthelonelyfarmandanoldDutchhouseatHighConstantia。Lynchwasnotabadfellow，but，likemostsoldiersoftheoldArmy，hadbeenquitecarefullydivestedofanaestheticsense。AnditwasLeila’smisfortunetohavemomentswhenaestheticsenseseemednecessary。Shehadstruggledtoovercomethisweakness，andthatotherweaknessofhers——alikingformen’sadmiration;buttherehadcertainlybeenintervalswhenshehadnotproperlysucceeded。HeracquaintancewithJimmyForthadoccurredduringoneoftheseintervals，andwhenhewentbacktoEnglandsoabruptly，shehadbeenfeelingverytenderlytowardshim。Shestillrememberedhimwithacertainpleasure。BeforeLynchdied，these"intervals"hadbeeninterruptedbyaspellofreturningwarmthfortheinvalidedmantowhomshehadjoinedherlifeundertheromanticconditionsofdivorce。Hehadfailed，ofcourse，asafarmer，andhisdeathleftherwithnothingbutherownsettledincomeofahundredandfiftypoundsayear。Facedbytheprospectofhavingalmosttomakeherliving，atthirty—eight，shefeltbutmomentarydismay——forshehadrealpluck。Likemanywhohaveplayedwithamateurtheatricals，shefanciedherselfasanactress;but，aftermucheffort，foundthatonlyhervoiceandtheperfectpreservationofherlegswereappreciatedbythediscerningmanagersandpublicofSouthAfrica;andforthreechequeredyearsshemadefaceagainstfortunewiththehelpofthem，underanassumedname。Whatshedid——keepingacertainbloomofrefinement，wasfarbetterthantheachievementsofmanymorerespectableladiesinhershoes。Atleastsheneverbemoanedher"reducedcircumstances，"andifherlifewasirregularandhadatleastthreeepisodes，itwasveryhuman。Shebravelytooktheroughwiththesmooth，neverlostthepowerofenjoyingherself，andgrewinsympathywiththehardshipsofothers。
　　Butshebecamedeadlytired。Whenthewarbrokeout，rememberingthatshewasagoodnurse，shetookherrealnameagainandachangeofoccupation。Foronewholikedtopleasemen，andtobepleasedbythem，therewasacertainattractionaboutthatlifeinwar—time;andaftertwoyearsofitshecouldstillappreciatethewayherTommiesturnedtheirheadstolookatherwhenshepassedtheirbeds。Butinahardschoolshehadlearnedperfectself—control;andthoughthesourandpuritanicalperceivedherattraction，theyknewhertobeforty—three。Besides，thesoldierslikedher;andtherewaslittletroubleinherwards。Thewarmovedherinsimpleways;forshewaspatrioticinthedirectfashionofherclass。Herfatherhadbeenasailor，herhusbandsanofficialandasoldier;theissueforherwasuncomplicatedbyanyabstractmeditation。TheCountrybeforeeverything！Andthoughshehadtendedduringthosetwoyearssomanyyoungwreckedbodies，shehadtakenitasallintheaday’swork，lavishinghersympathyontheindividual，withoutmuchgeneralsenseofpityandwaste。Yes，shehadworkedreallyhard，had"doneherbit";butoflateshehadfeltrisingwithinhertheoldvaguecravingfor"life，"forpleasure，forsomethingmorethanthemerenegativeadmirationbestowedonherbyher"Tommies。"Thoseoldletters——tolookthemthroughthemhadbeenasuresignofthisvaguecraving——hadsharpenedtopoignancythefeelingthatlifewasslippingawayfromherwhileshewasstillcomely。ShehadbeenlongoutofEngland，andsohard—workedsinceshecamebackthattherewerenotmanythreadsshecouldpickupsuddenly。Twolettersoutofthatlittlebudgetofthepast，withafarcrybetweenthem，hadawakenedwithinhercertainsentimentallongings。
　　"DEARLADYOFTHESTARRYFLOWERS，"Exiturus（sic）tosaluto！Thetendercarriesyouthismessageofgood—bye。Simplyspeaking，IhateleavingSouthAfrica。Andofallmymemories，thelastwilllivethelongest。GrapeharvestatConstantia，andyousinging:’IfIcouldbethefallingdew:IfeveryouandyourhusbandcometoEngland，doletmeknow，thatImaytryandrepayalittlethehappiestfivedaysI’vespentouthere。
　　"Yourveryfaithfulservant，"TIMMYFORT。"
　　Sherememberedaverybrownface，atallslimfigure，andsomethinggallantaboutthewholeofhim。Whatwashelikeaftertenyears？
　　Grizzled，married，withalargefamily？Anodiousthing——Time！AndCousinEdward’slittleyellowletter。
　　Goodheavens！Twenty—sixyearsago——beforehewasaparson，ormarriedoranything！Suchagoodpartner，reallymusical;aqueer，dearfellow，devoted，absentminded，easilyshocked，yetwithflameburninginhimsomewhere。
　　’DEARLEILA，"AfterourlastdanceIwentstraightoff’——Icouldn’tgoin。Iwentdowntotheriver，andwalkedalongthebank;itwasbeautiful，allgreyandhazy，andthetreeswhispered，andthecowslookedholy;andIwalkedalongandthoughtofyou。Andafarmertookmeforalunatic，inmydressclothes。DearLeila，youweresoprettylastnight，andIdidloveourdances。Ihopeyouarenottired，andthatIshallseeyousoonagain:
　　"Youraffectionatecousin，"EDWARDPIERSON。"
　　Andthenhehadgoneandbecomeaparson，andmarried，andbeenawidowerfifteenyears。Sherememberedthedeathofhiswife，justbeforesheleftforSouthAfrica，atthatperiodofdisgracewhenshehadsoshockedherfamilybyherdivorce。PoorEdward——quitethenicestofhercousins！Theonlyoneshewouldcaretoseeagain。Hewouldbeveryoldandterriblygoodandproper，bynowHerwheelofRegent’sParkwascomingfullcircle，andthesunwasupbehindthehouses，butstillnosoundoftrafficstirred。Shestoppedbeforeaflower—bedwherewassomeheliotrope，andtookalong，luxurioussniff:Shecouldnotresistpluckingasprig，too，andholdingittohernose。Asuddenwantoflovehadrunthrougheverynerveandfibreofher;sheshivered，standingtherewithhereyeshalfclosed，abovethepalevioletblossom。Then，notingbyherwrist—watchthatitwasfouro’clock，shehurriedon，togettoherbed，forshewouldhavetobeondutyagainatnoon。Oh！thewar！
　　Shewastired！Ifonlyitwereover，andonecouldlive！……
　　SomewherebyTwickenhamthemoonhadfloateddown;somewhereupfromKentishTownthesuncamesoaring;wheelsrolledagain，andthesevenmillionsleepersintheirmillionhouseswokefrommorningsleeptothatsamethought……
　　IX
　　EdwardPierson，dreamingoveraneggatbreakfast，openedaletterinahandwritingwhichhedidnotrecognise。
　　"V。A。D。Hospital，"MulberryRoad，St。John’sWoodN。W。
　　"DEARCOUSINEDWARD，"Doyourememberme，orhaveIgonetoofarintotheshadesofnight？
　　IwasLeilaPiersononceuponatime，andIoftenthinkofyouandwonderwhatyouarelikenow，andwhatyourgirlsarelike。Ihavebeenherenearlyayear，workingforourwounded，andforayearbeforethatwasnursinginSouthAfrica。Myhusbanddiedfiveyearsagooutthere。Thoughwehaven’tmetforIdarenotthinkhowlong，Ishouldawfullyliketoseeyouagain。Wouldyoucaretocomesomedayandlookovermyhospital？Ihavetwowardsunderme;ourmenareratherdears。
　　"Yourforgottenbutstillaffectionatecousin"LEILALYNCH。"
　　"P。S。Icameacrossalittleletteryouoncewroteme;itbroughtbackolddays。"
　　No！Hehadnotforgotten。Therewasareminderinthehouse。AndhelookedupatNoelsittingopposite。Howliketheeyeswere！Andhethought:’IwonderwhatLeilahasbecome。Onemustn’tbeuncharitable。Thatmanisdead;shehasbeennursingtwoyears。Shemustbegreatlychanged;Ishouldcertainlyliketoseeher。Iwillgo！’AgainhelookedatNoel。Onlyyesterdayshehadrenewedherrequesttobeallowedtobeginhertrainingasanurse。
　　"I’mgoingtoseeahospitalto—day，Nollie，"hesaid;"ifyoulike，I’llmakeenquiries。I’mafraidit’llmeanyouhavetobeginbywashingup。"
　　"Iknow;anything，solongasIdobegin。"
　　"Verywell;I’llseeaboutit。"Andhewentbacktohisegg。
　　Noel’svoicerousedhim。"Doyoufeelthewarmuch，Daddy？Doesithurtyouhere？"Shehadputherhandonherheart。"Perhapsitdoesn’t，becauseyoulivehalfinthenextworld，don’tyou？"
　　Thewords:"Godforbid，"sprangtoPierson’slips;hedidnotspeakthem，butputhisegg—spoondown，hurtandbewildered。Whatdidthechildmean？Notfeelthewar！Hesmiled。
　　"IhopeI’mabletohelppeoplesometimes，Nollie，"andwasconsciousthathehadansweredhisownthoughts，notherwords。Hefinishedhisbreakfastquickly，andverysoonwentout。HecrossedtheSquare，andpassedEast，downtwocrowdedstreetstohischurch。Inthetrafficofthosestreets，allslipshodandconfused，hisblack—
　　clothedfigureandgraveface，withitsVandykbeard，hadacuriousremoteappearance，likeamovingremnantofapastcivilisation。Hewentinbythesidedoor。Onlyfivedayshehadbeenaway，buttheyhadbeensofullofemotionthattheemptyfamiliarbuildingseemedalmoststrangetohim。Hehadcomethereunconsciously，gropingforanchorageandguidanceinthissuddenchangeofrelationshipbetweenhimandhisdaughters。Hestoodbythepalebrazeneagle，staringintothechancel。Thechoirwerewantingnewhymn—books——hemustnotforgettoorderthem！Hiseyessoughtthestained—glasswindowhehadputintothememoryofhiswife。Thesun，toohightoslant，wasburnishingitsbase，tillitglowedofadeepsherrycolour。"Inthenextworld！"WhatstrangewordsofNoel’s！Hiseyescaughttheglimmeroftheorgan—pipes;and，mountingtotheloft，hebegantoplaysoftchordswanderingintoeachother。Hefinished，andstoodgazingdown。Thisspacewithinhighwalls，underhighvaultedroof，wherelightwastonedtoaperpetualtwilight，brokenhereandtherebyalittleglowofcolourfromglassandflowers，metal，anddarkwood，washishome，hischarge，hisrefuge。Nothingmoveddownthere，andyet——wasnotemptinessmysteriouslyliving，theclosed—inairimprintedinstrangesort，asthoughthedroneofmusicandvoicesinprayerandpraiseclungtherestill？Hadnotsanctityapresence？Outside，abarrel—organdroveitstunealong;awagonstaggeredonthepavedstreet，andthedrivershoutedtohishorses;
　　somedistantgunsboomedoutinpractice，andtherollingofwheelsonwheelsformedanetofsound。Butthoseinvadingnoisesweretransmutedtoameremurmuringinhere;onlythesilenceandthetwilightwererealtoPierson，standingthere，alittleblackfigureinagreatemptyspace。
　　Whenheleftthechurch，itwasstillratherearlytogotoLeila’shospital;and，havingorderedthenewhymn—books，hecalledinatthehouseofaparishionerwhosesonhadbeenkilledinFrance。Hefoundherinherkitchen;anoldishwomanwholivedbycharing。ShewipedaseatfortheVicar。
　　"Iwasjustmakin’meselfacupo’tea，sir。"
　　"Ah！Whatacomfortteais，Mrs。Soles！"Andhesatdown，sothatsheshouldfeel"athome。"
　　"Yes;itgivesme’eart—burn;Itakeeightortencupsaday，now。I
　　take’emstrong，too。Idon’tseemabletogetonwithoutit。I
　　’opetheyoungladiesarewell，sir？"
　　"Verywell，thankyou。MissNoelisgoingtobeginnursing，too。"
　　"Deary—me！She’sveryyoung;butalltheyounggellsaredoin’
　　somethingthesedays。I’vegotanieceinmunitions—makin’aprettypennysheis。I’vebeenmeanin’totellyou——Idon’tcometochurchnow;sincemysonwaskilled，Idon’tseemto’avethe’earttogoanywhere——’aven’tbeentoapicture—palacethesethreemonths。Anyexcitementstartsmecryin’。"
　　"Iknow;butyou’dfindrestinchurch。"
　　Mrs。Solesshookherhead，andthesmalltwistedbobofherdiscolouredhairwobbledvaguely。
　　"Ican’ttakeanyrecreation，"shesaid。"I’drathersit’ere，orbeatwork。Mysonwasarealsontome。Thistea’stheonlythingthatdoesmeanygood。Icanmakeyouafreshcupinaminute。"
　　"Thankyou，Mrs。Soles，butImustbegettingon。Wemustalllookforwardtomeetingourbelovedagain，inGod’smercy。AndoneofthesedayssoonIshallbeseeingyouinchurch，shan’tI。
　　Mrs。Solesshiftedherweightfromoneslipperedfoottotheother。
　　"Well！let’s’opeso，"shesaid。"ButIdunnowhenIshall’avethespirit。Goodday，sir，andthankyoukindlyforcalling，I’msure。"
　　Piersonwalkedawaywithaveryfaintsmile。Poorqueeroldsoul！
　　——shewasnoolderthanhimself，buthethoughtofherasancient——cutofffromherson，likesomany——somany;andhowgoodandpatient！Themelodyofananthembeganrunninginhishead。Hisfingersmovedontheairbesidehim，andhestoodstill，waitingforanomnibustotakehimtoSt。John’sWood。Athousandpeoplewentbywhilehewaswaiting，buthedidnotnoticethem，thinkingofthatanthem，ofhisdaughters，andthemercyofGod;andonthetopofhis’bus，whenitcamealong，helookedlonelyandapart，thoughthemanbesidehimwassofatthattherewashardlyanyseatlefttositon。
　　GettingdownatLord’sCricket—ground，heaskedhiswayofaladyinanurse’sdress。
　　"Ifyou’llcomewithme，"shesaid，"I’mjustgoingthere。"
　　"Oh！DoyouhappentoknowaMrs。Lynchwhonurses"
　　"IamMrs。Lynch。Why，you’reEdwardPierson！"
　　Helookedintoherface，whichhehadnotyetobserved。
　　"Leila！"hesaid。
　　"Yes，Leila！Howawfullyniceofyoutocome，Edward！"
　　Theycontinuedtostand，searchingeachfortheother’syouth，tillshemurmured:
　　"Inspiteofyourbeard，Ishouldhaveknownyouanywhere！"Butshethought:’PoorEdward！Heisold，andmonk—like！’
　　AndPierson，inanswer，murmured:
　　"You’reverylittlechanged，Leila！Wehaven’t，seeneachothersincemyyoungestgirlwasborn。She’sjustalittlelikeyou。"Buthethought:’MyNollie！Somuchmoredewy;poorLeila！’
　　Theywalkedon，talkingofhisdaughters，tilltheyreachedthehospital。
　　"Ifyou’llwaithereaminute，I’lltakeyouovermywards。"
　　Shehadlefthiminabarehall，holdinghishatinonehandandtouchinghisgoldcrosswiththeother;butshesooncamehack，andalittlewarmthcreptabouthisheart。Howworksofmercysuitedwomen！Shelookedsodifferent，somuchsofter，beneaththewhitecoif，withawhiteapronoverthebluishfrock。
　　Atthechangeinhisface，alittlewarmthcreptaboutLeila，too，justwherethebibofherapronstopped;andhereyesslidroundathimwhiletheywenttowardswhathadoncebeenabilliard—room。
　　"Mymenaredears，"shesaid;"theylovetobetalkedto。"
　　Underaskylightsixbedsjuttedoutfromagreendistemperedwall，oppositetosixbedsjuttingoutfromanothergreendistemperedwall，andfromeachbedafacewasturnedtowardsthemyoungfaces，withbutlittleexpressioninthem。Anurse，atthefarend，lookedround，andwentonwithherwork。ThesightofthewardwasnomorenewtoPiersonthantoanyoneelseinthesedays。Itwassofamiliar，indeed，thatithadpracticallynosignificance。Hestoodbythefirstbed，andLeilastoodalongside。Themansmiledupwhenshespoke，anddidnotsmilewhenhespoke，andthatagainwasfamiliartohim。Theypassedfrombedtobed，withexactlythesameresult，tillshewascalledaway，andhesatdownbyayoungsoldierwithalong，verynarrowheadandface，andaheavilybandagedshoulder。Touchingthebandagereverently，Piersonsaid:
　　"Well，mydearfellow—stillbad？"
　　"Ah！"repliedthesoldier。"Shrapnelwound:It’scutthefleshproperly。"
　　"Butnotthespirit，Icansee！"
　　Theyoungsoldiergavehimaquaintlook，asmuchastosay:"Not’arfbad！"andagramophoneclosetothelastbedbegantoplay:
　　"GodblessDaddyatthewar！"
　　"Areyoufondofmusic？"
　　"Ilikeitwellenough。Passesthetime。"
　　"I’mafraidthetimehangsheavyinhospital。"
　　"Yes;ithangsabit’eavy;it’sjust’orspitallife。I’vebeenwoundedbefore，yousee。It’sbetterthanbein’outthere。IexpectI’lllosetheproperuseo’thisarm。Idon’tworry;I’llgetmydischarge。"
　　"You’vegotsomegoodnurseshere。"
　　"Yes;IlikeMrs。Lynch;she’stheladyIlike。"
　　"Mycousin。"
　　"Iseeyoucomeintogether。Iseeeverything’ere。Ithinkalot，too。Passesthetime。"
　　"Dotheyletyousmoke？"
　　"Oh，yes！Theyletussmoke。"
　　"Haveoneofmine？"
　　Theyoungsoldiersmiledforthefirsttime。"Thankyou;I’vegotplenty。"
　　Thenursecameby，andsmiledatPierson。
　　"He’soneofourblaseones;beeninbefore，haven’tyou，Simson？"
　　Piersonlookedattheyoungman，whoselong，narrowface;whereonesandy—lashedeyeliddroopedjustalittle，seemedarmouredwithasortoflimitedomniscience。Thegramophonehadwhirredandgruntedinto"SidiBrahim。"Thenursepassedon。
　　"’SeedyAbram，’"saidtheyoungsoldier。"TheFrenchiessingit;
　　theytakesituponeaftertheother，yeknow。"
　　"Ah！"murmuredPierson;"it’spretty。"Andhisfingersdrummedonthecounterpane，forthetunewasnewtohim。Somethingseemedtomoveintheyoungman’sface，asifablindhadbeendrawnupalittle。
　　"Idon’tmindFrance，"hesaidabruptly;"Idon’tmindtheshellsandthat;butIcan’tstickthemud。There’saloto’woundeddieinthemud;can’tgetup——smothered。"Hisunwoundedarmmadearestlessmovement。"Iwasnearlysmotheredmyself。Justmanagedtokeepmenoseup。"
　　Piersonshuddered。"ThankGodyoudid！"
　　"Yes;Ididn’tlikethat。ItoldMrs。LynchaboutthatonedaywhenIhadthefever。She’sanicelady;she’sseenalotofusboys:
　　Thatmud’snotright，youknow。"Andagainhisunwoundedarmmadethatrestlessmovement;whilethegramophonestruckup:"Theboysinbrown。"ThemovementofthearmaffectedPiersonhorribly;heroseand，touchingthebandagedshoulder，said:
　　"Good—bye;Ihopeyou’llsoonbequiterecovered。"
　　Theyoungsoldier’slipstwistedinthesemblanceofasmile;hisdroopedeyelidseemedtotryandraiseitself。
　　"Goodday，sir，"hesaid;"andthankyou。"
　　Piersonwentbacktothehall。Thesunlightfellinapooljustinsidetheopendoor，andanuncontrollableimpulsemadehimmoveintoit，sothatitwarmedhimuptothewaist。Themud！Howuglylifewas！LifeandDeath！Bothugly！Poorboys！Poorboys！
　　Avoicebehindhimsaid:
　　"Oh！Thereyouare，Edward！Wouldyouliketoseetheotherward，orshallIshowyouourkitchen？"
　　Piersontookherhandimpulsively。"You’redoinganoblework，Leila。Iwantedtoaskyou:CouldyouarrangeforNoeltocomeandgettrainedhere？Shewantstobeginatonce。Thefactis，aboysheisattractedtohasjustgoneouttotheFront。"
　　"Ah！"murmuredLeila，andhereyeslookedverysoft。"Poorchild！
　　Weshallbewantinganextrahandnextweek。I’llseeifshecouldcomenow。I’llspeaktoourMatron，andletyouknowto—night。"Shesqueezedhishandhard。
　　"DearEdward，I’msogladtoseeyouagain。You’rethefirstofourfamilyI’veseenforsixteenyears。Iwonderifyou’dbringNoeltohavesupperatmyflatto—night——Justnothingtoeat，youknow！It’satinyplace。There’saCaptainFortcoming;aniceman。"
　　Piersonaccepted，andashewalkedawayhethought:’DearLeila！
　　IbelieveitwasProvidence。Shewantssympathy。Shewantstofeelthepastisthepast。Howgoodwomenare！’
　　Andthesun，blazingsuddenlyoutofacloud，shoneonhisblackfigureandthelittlegoldcross，inthemiddleofPortlandPlace。
　　X
　　Men，eveniftheyarenotartistic，whohavebeeninstrangeplacesandknownmanynooksoftheworld，getthescenichabit，becomeopentopictorialsensation。ItwasasapictureorseriesofpicturesthatJimmyForteverafterwardsrememberedhisfirstsupperatLeila’s。Hehappenedtohavebeenalldayintheopen，motoringabouttohorsefarmsunderahotsun;andLeila’shockcuppossessedablandandsubtlestrength。Thescenicsensederivedtherefromhadacertainpoignancy，themoresobecausethetallchildwhomhemettheredidnotdrinkit，andherfatherseemedbuttowethislips，sothatLeilaandhehadalltherest。Ratherawonderfullittlesceneitmadeinhismind，verywarm，glowing，yetwithastrangedarksharpnesstoit，whichcameperhapsfromtheblackwalls。
　　Theflathadbelongedtoanartistwhowasatthewar。Itwasbutapocketdwellingonthethirdfloor。Thetwowindowsofthelittlesquaresitting—roomlookedoutonsometreesandachurch。ButLeila，whohateddiningbydaylight，hadsoondrawncurtainsofadeepblueoverthem。ThepicturewhichFortrememberedwasthis:A
　　littlefour—squaretableofdarkwood，withaChinesematofvividblueinthecentre，whereonstoodasilverlustrebowlofclovecarnations;somegreenishglasseswithhockcupinthem;onhisleft，Leilainalowlilacfrock，herneckandshouldersverywhite，herfacealittlepowdered，hereyeslarge，herlipssmiling;oppositehimablack—clothedpadrewithalittlegoldcross，overwhosethindarkishface，withitsgravepointedbeard，passedlittlegentlesmiles，butwhosedeepsunkgreyeyeswereburntandbright;onhisright，agirlinahighgreyfrock，almostwhite，justhollowedattheneck，withfullsleevestotheelbow，sothatherslimarmsescaped;hershortfairhairalittletumbled;herbiggreyeyesgrave;herfulllipsshapingwithastrangedaintinessroundeveryword——andtheynotmany;brilliantredshadesovergoldenlightsdottingtheblackwalls;abluedivan;alittleblackpianoflushwiththewall;adarkpolishedfloor;fourJapaneseprints;awhiteceiling。HewasconsciousthathisownkhakispoiledsomethingascuriousandrareassomeoldChinesetea—chest。Heevenrememberedwhattheyate;lobster;coldpigeonpie;asparagus;St。Ivelcheese;
　　raspberriesandcream。Hedidnotrememberhalfsowellwhattheytalkedof，exceptthathehimselftoldthemstoriesoftheBoerWar，inwhichhehadservedintheYeomanry，andwhilehewastellingthem，thegirl，likeachildlisteningtoafairy—tale，nevermovedhereyesfromhisface。Herememberedthataftersuppertheyallsmokedcigarettes，eventhetallchild，afterthepadrehadsaidtohermildly，"Mydear！"andshehadanswered:"Isimplymust，Daddy，justone。"HerememberedLeilabrewingTurkishcoffee——verygood，andhowbeautifulherwhitearmslooked，hoveringaboutthecups。Herememberedhermakingthepadresitdownatthepiano，andplaytothem。Andsheandthegirlonthedivantogether，sidebyside，astrangecontrast;withjustasstrangealikenesstoeachother。Healwaysrememberedhowfineandrarethatmusicsoundedinthelittleroom，floodinghimwithadreamybeatitude。Then——heremembered——
　　Leilasang，thepadrestanding—by;andthetallchildonthedivanbendingforwardoverherknees，withherchinonherhands。HerememberedrathervividlyhowLeilaturnedherneckandlookedup，nowatthepadre，nowathimself;and，allthrough，thedelightfulsenseofcolourandwarmth，asortofglamouroveralltheevening;
　　andthelingeringpressureofLeila’shandwhenhesaidgood—byeandtheywentaway，fortheyallwenttogether。Herememberedtalkingagreatdealtothepadreinthecab，aboutthepublicschooltheyhadbothbeenat，andthinking:’It’sagoodpadre——this！’HerememberedhowtheirtaxitookthemtoanoldSquarewhichhedidnotknow，wherethegardentreeslookeddenselyblackinthestarshine。Herememberedthatamanoutsidethehousehadengagedthepadreinearnesttalk，whilethetallchildandhimselfstoodintheopendoorway，wherethehallbeyondwasdark。Veryexactlyherememberedthelittleconversationwhichthentookplacebetweenthem，whiletheywaitedforherfather。
　　"Isitveryhorridinthetrenches，CaptainFort？"
　　"Yes，MissPierson;itisveryhorrid，asarule。"
　　"Isitdangerousallthetime？"
　　"Prettywell。"
　　"Doofficersrunmorerisksthanthemen？"
　　"Notunlessthere’sanattack。"
　　"Arethereattacksveryoften？"
　　Ithadseemedtohimsostrangelyprimitivealittlecatechism，thathehadsmiled。And，thoughitwassodark，shehadseenthatsmile，forherfacewentproudandcloseallofasudden。Hehadcursedhimself，andsaidgently:
　　"Haveyouabrotheroutthere？"
　　Sheshookherhead。
　　"Butsomeone？"
　　"Yes。"
　　Someone！Hehadheardthatanswerwithalittleshock。Thischild——