doctor commanded Doe.

"Come here, you," he said to me, brutally.

My eyes, teeth, and chest satisfied him; and then, like a loathly
eavesdropper, he listened at my heart. I was afraid my nervousness
would cause some irregular action of the detestable organ that would
finally down me in his eyes.

"All right, get dressed," he said; and, having put his stethoscope
away, he wrote something on two printed Army Forms and sealed them.

"Are we fit, sir?" asked I, in suspense.

"I've written my verdict," he said snappily, looking at me as
much as to say: "You aren't asked to converse. This isn't a
conversazione"; but, when he caught my gaze, he seemed, to repent
of his harshness, and answered gruffly:

"Both perfect."

"Oh, thanks, sir," said I. I could have kissed the old churl.

And so, before July was out, when Doe and I were at our separate
homes on a last leave, we received from the Director-General of
Movements our Embarkation Orders. Marked "SECRET," the documents
informed us that we were to report at Devonport "in service dress
uniform," with a view to proceeding to "the Mediterranean."
Seemingly we were to take no drafts of men, but travel independently
as reinforcements to the First Line at Cape Helles.

My mother turned very white when I showed her the letter. She had
heard ugly things about the Gallipoli Peninsula. People were saying
that the life of a junior subaltern on Helles was working out to an
average of fourteen days; and that, in the heat, the flies and dust
were scattering broadcast the germs of dysentery and enteric. And I
believe my restless excitement hurt her. But she only said: "I'm so
proud of it all," and kissed me.

The last night, however, as she sat in her chair, and I, after
walking excitedly about, stood in front of her, she took both my
hands and drew me, facing her, against her knees. I know she found
it sweet and poignant to have me in that position, for, when I was a
very small boy, it had been thus that she had drawn me to tell me
stories of my grandfather, Colonel Ray. She had dropped the habit,
when I was a shy and undemonstrative schoolboy, but had resumed it
happily during the last two years, for, by then, I had learnt in my
growing mannishness to delight in half-protectingly, half-childishly
stroking and embracing her.

She drew me, then, this last night against her knees and looked
lovingly at me. Her yearning heart was in her eyes. Her hands,
clasping mine, involunt