to
continue my journey. I only arrived in London the day before war was
declared. Of course I volunteered at once--I was glad to do it. Life
seemed empty of all its former sweetness. I don't think I cared what
happened to me; and I did care what happened to England and Belgium. I
was at last going to fight in the great fight against absolute monarchy
and militarism!"

When Michael had finished his short account of his doings, which merely
touched on essentials, they realized that they were in Hyde Park.
Margaret's eyes had caught sight of a clock over the gateway as they
entered; she had noticed how her two hours were flying, even while her
conscious self was enthralled with her lover's story. Spring was in
the year; it was in the hearts of the united lovers. Love smiled to
them from the budding shrubs and from the daffodils swaying in the
breeze.

To Michael "Blighty" was the most beautiful land in the world. His
heart was so burdened with happiness that Margaret had to laugh at his
high spirits and absurd remarks. He was the old enthusiastic Mike,
delighting in life and embracing it rapturously.

In the midst of this intoxication of happiness, Margaret's sense of
duty and responsibility, her Lampton characteristics, urged her. The
clock over the archway had subconsciously reminded her that she was,
after all, a pantry-maid in a hospital full of wounded soldiers; that
the soldier by her side was a part and portion of the great war; that
war, not love, ruled the world; this interlude had been stolen from the
God of Battles.

"Time's flying, dearest," she said. "I've less than one more hour.
Let's drive to a little garden-square close to my hospital--we can
dismiss the taxi there and talk until I have to go in--that's to say,
if you are free to come."

"Are you nursing?" he said. His eyes looked questioningly at her blue
uniform.

"No, not yet--I'm a pantry-maid."

"A what?" he said, laughingly. "You're a darling!"'

"I wash up tea-cups and saucers which Tommies drink from, and lay out
trays with tea-cups and saucers all day long." She paused. "That's as
near as I've got to the war."

"With your brains, Meg--is that all they could find for you to do?"
His encircling arm hugged her closely. Each moment she was becoming
more desirable and beautiful in his eyes; each moment life in the
trenches seemed further and further away.

"Freddy was sniped," Margaret said, "before he even killed a German