nd and sea, of massacre in simple
places, of savagery wrought on wounded men and prisoners in a
hydrophobia of hate let loose, it was ill lying awake in the dark
remembering loved beings surrounded by the worst of all the world has
ever known. Robin was afraid to look at the newspapers which her very
duties themselves obliged her to familiarise herself with, and she could
not close her ears. With battleship raids on harmless coast towns,
planned merely to the end of the wanton killing of such unconsidered
trifles of humanity as little children and women and men at their
every-day work, the circle of horror seemed to draw itself in closely.

Zeppelin raids leaving fragments of bodies on pavements and broken
things under fallen walls, were not so near as the women who dragged
themselves back to their work with death in their faces written
large--the death of husband or son or lover. These brought realities
close indeed.

"I don't know how he died," one of them said to the Duchess. "I don't
know how long it took him to die. I don't want to be told. I am glad he
is dead. Yes, I am glad. I wish the other two were dead too. I'm not
splendid and heroic. I thought I was at first, but I couldn't keep it
up--after I heard about Mrs. Foster's boy. If I believed there was
anything to thank, I should say 'Thank God I have no more sons.'"

That night Robin lay in the dark thinking of the dream. Had there been a
dream--or had it only been like the other things one dreamed about?
Sometimes an eerie fearfulness beset her vaguely. If there were letters
each day! But letters belonged to a time when rivers of blood did not
run through the world. She sat up in bed and clasped her hands round her
knees gazing into the blackness which seemed to enclose and shut her in.
It _had_ been true! She could see the wood and the foxglove spires
piercing the ferns. She could hear the ferns rustle and the little bird
sounds and stirrings. And oh! she could hear Donal whispering. "Can you
hear my heart beat?"

He had said it over and over again. His heart seemed to be so big and to
beat so strongly. She had thought it was because he was so big and
marvellous himself. It had been rapture to lay her cheek and ear against
his breast and listen. Everything had been so still. They had been so
still--so still themselves for pure joy in their close, close nearness.
Yes, the dream had been true. But here she sat in the dark and
Donal--where was Donal? Where m