chaplains did when I
was a subaltern, and jolly decent fellows they usually were."

"Well, I know. That's what I should feel, and that's what I don't quite
understand. I suppose he feels he's responsible for making the men
religious--it reads like that. But you shall hear the letter yourself."

Doyle digested this for a while in silence. Then he gave a sort of snort,
which is inimitable, but always accompanied his outbursts against things
slightly more recent than the sixties. It had the effect of rousing
Hilda, at any rate.

"Don't, you dear old thing," she said, clutching his arm. "I know
exactly what you're going to say. Young men of your day minded their
business and did their duty, and didn't theorise so much. Very likely.
But, you see, our young men had the misfortune to be born a little later
than you. And they can't help it." She sighed a little. "It _is_ trying
sometimes.... But they're all right really, and they'll come back to
things."

They were at the gate by now. Sir Robert stood aside to let her pass. "I
know, dear," he said, "I'm an old fogey. Besides, young Graham has good
stuff in him--I always said so. But if he's on the tack of trying to
stick his fingers into people's souls, he's made a mistake in going to
France. I know Tommy--or I did know him. (The Lord alone knows what's in
the Army these days.) He doesn't want that sort of thing. He swears and
he grouses and he drinks, but he respects God Almighty more than you'd
think, and he serves his Queen--I mean his King. A parade service is a
parade, and it's a bore at times, but it's discipline, and it helps in
the end. Like that little 'do' to-night, it helps. One comes away feelin'
one can stand a bit more for the sake of the decent, clean things of
life."

Hilda regarded the fine, straight old man for a second as they stood, on
the top of the steps. Then her eyes grew a little misty. "God bless you,
Uncle Bob," she said. "You _do_ understand." And the two went in
together.

Hilda opened the door of the study. "I'm going to make you comfortable
myself," she said. She pulled a big armchair round; placed a reading-lamp
on a small table and drew it close; and she made the old soldier sit in
the chair. Then she unlocked a little cupboard, and got out a decanter
and siphon and glass, and a box of cigars. She placed these by his side,
and stood back quizzically a second. Then she threw a big leather cushion
at his feet and walked to the switches, tu