. What about it, Barry?"

"I don't know. Do you think I should go? It's your party and it's
already made up."

"Not quite," said Phyllis, looking shyly at him. "You belong to the
party more than any of us, you know."

"Then what about Paula?" said Barry. "This is her party, is it not?"

Phyllis was silent.

"I think, Captain Dunbar," said Mrs. Vincent, "if you would like it,
you ought to go. You need something of the kind, and you will fit in
admirably with the party, I am quite sure. To-day," she added with a
little laugh, "I was doubtful as to the propriety of these young people
going off all the way to Edinburgh by themselves, but you know in these
war times we do extraordinary things, but now if you join them, my
scruples will be removed."

"Some chaperon," whispered Captain Neil audibly to Phyllis. Then he
added briskly, "Well, then, that's settled. To-morrow at 8:37 we meet at
King's Cross, 8:37, remember."

But for Barry the matter was far from settled.

"I can't quite make up my mind to-night," he said. "I shall be at King's
Cross, however, in the morning at any rate."

"But, Barry," began Phyllis, protesting, "you must--I want--"

She ceased speaking abruptly, her face flushing and then going suddenly
white.

"Oh, rot, old man," said Captain Neil, impatiently, "you will come. Of
course he'll come," he added to Phyllis.

They moved together out of the room, Mrs. Vincent and Captain Neil
leading the way.

"Oh, Barry, aren't you going?" said Phyllis in a low voice.

"How can I answer that?" he replied, almost in anger. "Do YOU ask me to
go? Do YOU want me to go?"

"Of course, we all want you to go," said the girl.

"Is that your answer?" His voice was tense; his face strained. "If that
is all, Phyllis, I must say 'Good-bye' to-night. Why should I go with
you? Why should I stay here in London? There's nothing for me here. The
war is the only place--"

"Oh, Barry," she said, her eyes bright with tears, "how unkindly, how
terribly you talk." Then with a swift change of mood she turned upon
him. "What right have you to talk like that?" she cried in sudden wrath.
"What have I done--what have we done to you?"

"Wait, Phyllis," he cried desperately. "Oh, let them go on," he added
impatiently. "For Heaven's sake, is there no place about here where I
can talk to you?" They were both pale and trembling. "I must talk to you
to-night--now--at once." He stood between her and the door. "Can't
you see I l