ding and walking with him, forcing herself to sing as she went about
the house--she had her reward in the look in the silent man's eyes
when he first heard a song on her lips--and entering with a good
imitation of her old energy into the plans for the next year on the
farm. But it was all imitation, and in his heart David Linton knew
it. The old Norah was gone. He could only pity her with all his big
heart, and help her in her struggle--knowing well that it was for his
sake. In his mind he began to plan their return to Australia, in the
hope that Billabong would prove a tonic to her tired mind and body.
And yet--how could they face Billabong, without Jim?

He came out on the terrace one evening with a letter in his hand.

"Norah," he said. "I've good news for you--Wally is coming home."

"Is he, Dad? On leave?"

"Well--he has been wounded, but not seriously. They have been nursing
him in a hospital at Boulogne and he writes that he is better, but he
is to have a fortnight's leave."

"It will be lovely to have him," Norah said. "May I see the letter,
Dad?"

"Of course." He gave it to her. "Poor old Wally! We must give him a
good time, Norah."

"It's a pity Harry's leave didn't happen at the same time," said
Norah. "However, Phil will be a mate for him; they like each other
awfully."

"Yes," agreed her father. "Still, I don't think Wally wants any other
mate when you are about."

"They were always astonishingly good in the way they overlooked my bad
taste in being a girl!" said Norah, with a laugh. She was running her
eye over the letter. "Oh--hit in the shoulder. I do hope it wasn't a
very painful wound--poor old boy. I wonder will he be able to ride,
Dad?"

"He says he's very well. But then, he would," Mr. Linton said.
"Since we first knew him Wally would never admit so much as a
finger-ache if he could possibly avoid it. I expect he'll ride if
it's humanly possible!"

Allenby came out.

"Hawkins would like to see you, sir."

"Very well," said his master. "By the way, Allenby, Mr. Wally is
coming back on leave."

The butler's face brightened.

"Is he indeed, sir! That's good news."

"Yes--he has been wounded, but he's all right."

"Miss de Lisle will certainly invent a new dish in his honour, sir,"
said Allenby, laughing. "Is he coming soon?"

"This week, he says. Well, I mustn't keep Hawkins waiting." He went
into the house, with Allenby at his heels. It was evident tha