some time after that. I thought they were all right again;
but I had to read a lot of things across a room, and made a poor show of
it. Then the doctor took me to a window and pointed to an omnibus that
was passing.

"`What's the name on that 'bus?' he said. `What is the colour of that
woman's hat? How many horses are there?'

"I guessed. I couldn't see. I made a shot at it, and it was a wrong
shot. He was a kind old chap. I think he was sorry for me. I--I came
out into the street, and walked about. It was very cold. I tried to
write to you, but I couldn't do it--I couldn't put it down in black and
white. No V.C. now, little Peg! That's all over. You will have a
civilian for your brother, after all!"

He bent down to kiss the girl's cheeks as he spoke, and she threw her
arms round his neck and kissed him passionately upon his closed eyelids.

"Dear eyes!" she cried impetuously. "Oh, dear eyes! They are the
dearest eyes in all the world, whatever anyone says about them. It
doesn't matter what you are--you are my Arthur, the best and cleverest
brother in all the world. Nobody is like you!"

"You have a fine career before you still, my boy! You will always
fight, I hope, and conquer enemies even more powerful than armed men!"
cried Mrs Asplin, trembling. "There are more ways than one of being a
soldier, Arthur!"

"I know it, mater," said the young man softly. He straightened his back
and stood in silence, his head thrown back, his eyes shining with
emotion, as fine a specimen of a young English gentleman as one could
wish to meet. "I know it," he repeated, and Mrs Asplin turned aside to
hide her tears. "Oh, my pretty boy!" she was saying to herself. "Oh,
my pretty boy! And I'll never see him in his red coat, riding his horse
like a prince among them all! I'll never see the medals on his breast!
Oh, my poor lad that has the fighting blood in his veins! It's like
tearing the heart out of him to turn Arthur Saville into anything but a
soldier. And the poor father--what will he say at all, when he hears
this terrible news?" She dared not trust herself to speak again; the
others were too much stunned and distressed to make any attempt at
consolation, and it was a relief to all when Mellicent's calm,
matter-of-fact treble broke the silence.

"Well, for my part, I'm very glad!" she announced slowly. "I'm sorry,
of course, if he has to wear spectacles, because they are not becoming,
but I'm g