d. "She doesn't think I'm beautiful.
Or if she does, it's against her will."

"It won't be, after this."

"Why not? You won't tell her----"

"I'll tell her to love you, and--to help me not to!"

It was just then they came to Brian's door, and Dierdre fled, Sirius
staring after her in dignified surprise.

But Dierdre herself came to me at once, and told me everything, with a
kind of proud defiance.

"I _do_ love your brother," she boasted. "I _would_ marry him if he'd
have me. I don't care what you think of me, or what you say!"

"Why, I love you for loving him," I threw back at her. "That's what I
think of you--and that's what I say."

I was sincere, Padre. Yet I don't see how they can ever marry, even if
Brian should learn to love the girl enough. Neither one has a
penny--and--_Brian is blind_. Who can tell if he will ever get his sight
again? I wish Dierdre hadn't come into our lives in just the way she did
come! I wish she weren't Julian O'Farrell's sister! I hope she won't be
pricked by that queer conscience of hers to tell Brian any secrets which
concern me as well as Julian and herself. And I hope--whatever
happens!--that I shan't be mean enough to be jealous. But--with such a
new, exciting "friendship" for Brian's prop, it seems as if, for
me--Othello's occupation would be gone!

CHAPTER XXVII

We're at Amiens, where we came by way of Montdidier and Moreuil; and
nearly two weeks have dragged or slipped away since I wrote last.
Meanwhile a thousand things have happened. But I'll begin at the
beginning and write on till I am called by Mother Beckett.

We stopped at Soissons three more days after I told you about Dierdre
and Brian, and Captain Devot and his wife. Not only did they forgive
Dierdre--those two--but they took her to their hearts, perhaps more for
Brian's sake than her own. I was introduced to them, and they were kind
to me, too. Of the blind man I have a beautiful souvenir. I must tell
you about it, Padre!

The evening before we left Soissons (when the doctor had pronounced
Mother Beckett well enough for a short journey) I had an hour in the
stuffy little _salon_ with Dierdre and Brian and the Devots. We sat
round the fire--plenty of room for us all, in a close circle--and
Captain Devot began to talk about his last battle on the Chemin des
Dames. Suddenly he realized that the story was more than his wife could
bear--for it was in that battle he lost his eyes! How he realized what