was going to ride down to the
cliffs to see. . . . What's the matter, Betty--can't you sleep? Come
in and shut the door; I'll give you a cup of tea." She spoke in her
accustomed quiet tone, and crossed to the side table, where the kettle
was giving out little fitful puffs of steam.

Betty closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands in
the side pockets of her dressing-gown. Her hair was plaited loosely in
two long plaits, one of which hung down over her shoulder and somehow
gave her face an added effect of extreme youth.

Margaret handed her a cup of tea. "Drink that and run back to bed.
No--hop into mine and keep warm. Haven't you slept?"

Betty drank the tea and drew the dressing-gown closer round her young
form. "I couldn't sleep. The firing . . . No, I'm quite warm,
thanks. But it got on my nerves lying there waiting for it to get
light. I heard you moving, and I got up." She passed her hand over
her eyes. "After the last time I kept seeing those poor things. . . .
I don't mind once we start--I don't mind the operating-table. It's
when they come in . . . like dumb things--trying to smile, with their
mouths all screwed up and tight." She caught her breath half
hysterically.

Margaret put down her cup quickly and sat down by the girl's side.
"Betty! Don't talk like that. You mustn't think about it in that way.
Listen----"

"It's easy to be calm when you haven't any--anybody out there in the
North Sea belonging to you. But I've got a brother and a--and he's a
Gunnery Lieutenant," ended Betty a little feebly.

"I know, dear. But you mustn't go to pieces when we all want every bit
of pluck and steadiness. We're getting used to it now, too--and I'm
sure your brother would like to think you were being as brave as--as
he. . . ." She turned her head and stared out of the window. Was she
a hypocrite, she wondered, to try to preach to anyone the virtue of
womanly courage when her own heart was sick with she knew not what?

Betty stood up. "I'm a fool," she said abruptly. "Can I come with
you? Could you wait ten minutes while I put my riding things on? Miss
Dacre said I could take her horse when I wanted to--will you wait for
me, Margaret? I'll ride down to the sea with you."

Margaret nodded and rose, too. "I'll get the horses saddled while you
dress. . . . Bring some biscuits."

She descended the broad oak stairway, crossed the hall, and opened the
door of a little ro