that arrested her attention, filling her with a nervous foreboding of
what he had to say.

"Sara, you know, of course, as well as I do, that I am going to
volunteer. I let mother send for you, because--well, because I thought
you would make it a little easier for her, for one thing. But I had
another reason."

"Had you?" Sara spoke mechanically. They had paused beside the Queen's
Bench, and half-unconsciously she laid her ungloved hand caressingly on
the seat's high back. The stone struck cold against the warmth of her
flesh.

"Yes." Tim was speaking again, still in that oddly direct manner. "I
want to ask you--now, before I go to France--whether there will ever be
any chance for me?"

Sara turned her eyes to his face.

"You mean----"

"I mean that I'm asking you once again if you will marry me? If you
will--if I can go away leaving _my wife_ in England, I shall have
so much the more to fight for. But if you can't give me the answer I
wish--well"--with a curious little smile--"it will make death easier,
should it come--that's all."

The quiet, grave directness of the speech was very unlike the old,
impetuous Tim of former days. It brought with it to Sara's mind a
definite recognition of the fact that the man had replaced the boy.

"No, Tim," she responded quietly. "I made one mistake--in promising to
marry you when I loved another man. I won't repeat it."

"But"--Tim's face expressed sheer wonder and amazement--"you don't still
care for Garth Trent--for that blackguard? Oh!" remorsefully, as he
saw her wince--"forgive me, Sara, but this war makes one feel even more
bitterly about such a thing than one would in normal times."

"I know--I understand," she replied quietly. "I'm--ashamed of loving
him." She turned her head restlessly aside. "But, don't you see, love
can't be made and unmade to order. It just _happens_. And it's happened
to me. In the circumstances, I can't say I like it. But there it is. I
do love Garth--and I can't _unlove_ him. At least, not yet."

"But some day, Sara, some day?" he urged.

She shook her head.

"I shall never marry anybody now, Tim. If--if ever I 'get over' this
fool feeling for Garth, I know how it would leave me. I shall be quite
cold and hard inside--like that stone"--pointing to the Queen's Bench.
"I wish--I wish I had reached that stage now."

Silently Tim held out his hand, and she laid hers within it, meeting his
grave eyes.

"I won't ever bother you again," h