nd now they were thinking of less bewildering things than their own
love for each other. Michael was tenderly dreaming of Freddy.
Margaret was reviewing Freddy's true attitude towards Michael in her
mind. It was true that he had said that until he gave some
satisfactory explanation of his behaviour, she was not to treat him as
her lover. Well, her finer senses told her that Michael had given her
a satisfactory explanation, and she was certain that Freddy also knew
it. He had, by his taking her in his arms without one word of pleading
or explanation, given her the fairest and most perfect assurance of his
faithfulness to her and of his right to ask for her love.

These thoughts passed rapidly through her mind, while she silently
enjoyed the delight of feeling Michael's close presence by her side.
Never, even in Egypt, under the high-sailing moon in the great Sahara,
had she loved him as romantically as she did at this moment. As a
weather-stained, wind-tanned Tommy he was dearer to her than ever he
had been in the days when, as a painter and an Egyptologist, he had
opened her eyes to a new world of intellectual enjoyment.

Michael's mind was obsessed by Freddy's death. He had never for one
moment imagined that such a thing was in the least likely to happen.
He did not know that Freddy was at the Front; he had imagined to
himself that such exceptional brains and unusual qualities would have
been given other work to do, than to stand all day long knee-deep in
mud in the trenches of Flanders. His heart ached for Margaret. Her
devotion to Freddy was exceptional; her pride in him had been the
keynote of her existence. He spoke abruptly, while his hands clasped
hers hungrily and tightly.

"Would Freddy mind?" he said. "I can't be disloyal to him!"

"Mind?" Meg said questioningly. "Mind my loving you? He knew my love
could never change--it was born in unchanging Egypt."

"Yes, mind if you married me while I'm on leave?--I've got a whole
fortnight, and my commission."

"Oh!" Meg said breathlessly. "You go at such a pace!"

Michael laughed boyishly at her astonishment. Her woman's mind had not
thought of marriage; it was satisfied with the present conditions.

"I don't think Freddy would mind--not now. But"--her laugh joined
Michael's--"you see, you haven't asked if I'd mind. We aren't even
engaged--you wouldn't be. Do you remember?"

Michael pulled round her head with his hands, and kissed her lips. "I