Jim died, but the real Jim is ever close in our hearts, and
we never let him go, and we can talk and laugh about him, just as if
he was here. But the real Wally seems to have died altogether, and
we've only the shell left. Something in him died when he saw Jim
killed. Mrs. Hunt--do you think he'll ever be better?"

"I think he will," Mrs. Hunt said. "He is too fine and plucky to be
always like this. You have to remember that he is only a boy, and
that he had the most terrible shock that could come to him. It must
take time to recover."

"I know," Norah said. "I tried to think like that--but it hurts so,
that one can't help him. We would do anything to make him feel
better."

"And you will, in time. Remember, you and your father are more to him
than any one else in the world. Make him feel you want him; I think
nothing else can help him so much." Mrs. Hunt's eyes were full of
tears. "He was such a merry lad--it breaks one's heart to think of
him as he is."

"He was always the cheerfullest person I ever saw," said Norah. "He
just laughed through everything. I remember once when he was bitten
by a snake, and it was hours before we could get a doctor. We were
nearly mad with anxiety, and he was in horrible pain with the
tourniquet, but he joked through it all in the most ridiculous way.
And he was always so eager. It's the last thing you could call him
now. All the spring has gone out of him."

"It will come back," Mrs. Hunt said. "Only keep on trying--let him
see how much he means to you."

"Well, he's all we have left," said Norah. There was silence for a
moment; and then it was a relief when the children burst into the
room.

They all went to the station two days later to see Mrs. Hunt off for
her excursion. Michael was not to be depended upon to remain brave
when a train actually bore his mother away, so they did not wait to
see her go; there were errands to be done in the village, and Norah
bundled them all into the governess-cart, giving Geoffrey the reins,
to his huge delight. He turned his merry face to his mother.

"Good-bye, darling! Take care of yourself in London Town!"

"I will," said his mother. "Mind you take care of all the family.
You're in charge, you know, Geoff."

"Rather!" he said. "I'm G.O.C., and they've got to do what I tell
them, haven't they? And Mother--tell the Colonel to send Father
home."

"Then you won't be G.O.C.," said Norah.

"Don't want to be, if F