one wants to go before his time," observed a cool voice behind
them. "Or if he does, he's a shirker and deserves to be kicked."

Both girls started as Max strolled carelessly up, hands in pockets, and
propped himself against a tree close by.

His eyes travelled over Olga's face as he did so. "You've been
overheated," he remarked.

She pulled her hat forward with a nervous jerk. "Who can help it this
weather?"

He grunted disapproval. "You never see me in that condition. Pray
continue your oration, Miss Campion! It was not my intention to
interrupt."

But Violet had suddenly reopened her book and buried herself therein.

Max twisted his neck and peered over. After a brief space he grunted
again and relaxed against the tree.

"Do you read French?" Olga asked, feeling the silence to be slightly
oppressive.

He laughed drily. "Not that sort. I have no taste for it."

"But you know the language?" Olga persisted, still striving against
silence.

"I've studied it," said Max. He paused a moment; then, "The best fellow
I ever knew was a Frenchman," he said.

She looked up at him, caught by something in his tone. "A friend of
yours?"

He took off his hat with a reverence which she would have deemed utterly
foreign to his nature. "Yes, a friend," he said. "Bertrand de
Montville."

"Oh, did you know him?" exclaimed Olga. "Why did you never tell me
before? I shall never forget how miserable I was because he didn't live
to be reinstated in the French Army. But it's years ago now, isn't it?"

"Six years," said Max.

"Yes, I remember. How I should like to have known him! But I was at
school then. And you knew him well?"

"I was with him when he died," he said.

"Oh!" said Olga, and then with a touch of shyness, "I'm sorry, Max."

"No," he said. "You needn't be sorry. He was no shirker. His time was
up."

"But wasn't it a pity?" she said.

He smiled a little. "I don't think he thought so. He was happy
enough--at the last."

"But if he had only been vindicated first!" she said.

"Do you think that matters?" Max's smile became cynical.

"Surely it would have made a difference to him?" she protested. "Surely
he cared!"

He snapped his fingers in the air. "He cared just that."

Violet looked up suddenly from her book. "And you--did you care--just
that too?"

He seemed to Olga to contract at the question. "I?" he said. "I had
other things to think about. Life is too short for grizzling in any
case. And I