"Because," was the retort, "you have never approved of us; you have
always wanted us sent back to England. The whole British Army has
objected to our being where we are."
"Much good the objecting has done!" grumbled the officers. But in
their hearts they were very proud.
Originally there had been three in this valiant little group of young
aristocrats who have proved as true as their brothers to the
traditions of their race. The third one was the daughter of an earl.
She, too, had been decorated. But she had gone to a little town near
by a day or two before.
"But what do you do?" I asked one of these young women. She was
drawing on her mittens ready to start for their car.
"Sick and sorry work," she said briefly. "You know the sort of thing.
I wish you would come out and have dinner with us. There is to be
mutton."
I accepted promptly, but it was the situation and not the mutton that
appealed to me. It was arranged that they should go ahead and set
things in motion for the meal, and that I should follow later.
At the door one of them turned and smiled at me.
"They are shelling the village," she said. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all," I replied. And I meant it. For I was no longer so
gun-shy as I had been earlier in the winter. I had got over turning
pale at the slamming of a door.
Pages:
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267