alked through it, like a puppet with
somebody else's hand pulling the strings." He paused and shook his
head. "It is no use. I can't make you understand it. I acted freely
and did just what I chose; but yet, all the time, I felt as if it
had all been arranged for me, whole generations ago."

Thoughtfully she bent forward, straightened the coverings above his
wounded leg; then sat up again. Then she shook her head a little
regretfully.

"No," she said. "I am afraid I don't understand. Perhaps it is
because I am selfish; but I usually feel as if I made my plans,
regardless of Fate."

"What about our meeting here?" he asked quizzically.

She answered in the same tone.

"Wait until we see what comes out of it. Fate, if one believes in
such a thing, only works in an endless chain."

"And the broken links?"

"According to your notion, there should be none," she retorted.
"Fate ought to be a better workman than that."

"Than what?"

"Than spoiling her work as she goes along. If there's any chain at
all, it should be endless and durable. But a man with a Mauser hole
in his leg and a fever in his head has no business to be talking of
Fate. Let's talk about Ethel, instead."

He settled himself back comfortably.

"Perhaps it amounts to the same thing, in the long run."

"Perhaps. I don't see how, though. Anyway, Ethel wouldn't be pleased
with the notion. She is absolutely independent, and generally
arranges things according to her own sweet will."

"Where is she now?"

"In Cape Town," Alice answered, quite unaware of her own lack of
truth.

"And well?"

"Gloriously. In fact, as far as I can learn, Cooee always is well.
Just now she is having a wonderfully gay time. Since Lord Roberts
went back to England, Cape Town has been full of people, resting
there before sailing for home."

"Resting?"

"Haven't they earned the right?" she questioned, in swift challenge
to the quiet scorn in his tone.

"Even if the battles are over, the fighting isn't," he answered
tersely. "The glory doesn't lie entirely in the pulverizing the Boer
army; there's a little left for the men who are sweeping up the
pieces."

Her trained eye saw the rising color in his face. Swiftly she
changed the subject.

"Glory for all, enough and to spare," she replied. "But, as I say,
Cape Town is crowded with officers, lying up for repairs, and Ethel
is queen bee among them. It's not only for herself; it is what you
would call Fate. She happ