s letter was characteristic. Though he must have felt as if
he stood alone, at the jumping-off place of the world, he had more to
say about me than of himself.

He had read in the El Paso papers that I was going to sail for England,
and all the first part of his letter was concerned with "bon voyage." It
was only in the last paragraph that he mentioned his own affairs.
"You'll have heard already," he said, "of what has happened to me. I've
had a blow, but I'm not going to lie down under it. There must be work
for me somewhere, and when I've found it you'll hear from me again. Not
until then though, for I'm rather hard hit, and might be inclined to
grumble. But I shall think of you constantly, and I don't believe if I
wrote a volume I could make you understand how much the thought will
help. I shall wear it like armour."

Not a word of Diana. But I read between the lines. He was "rather hard
hit." Just when he was facing an attack from the front she had stabbed
him in the back. In one way, the letter was a bitter disappointment, for
I had longed to be told Eagle's plans; yet in the hint that I should
hear again when he had "found work," there was a thrill like that which
comes with martial music. I was far from guessing then what that work
would be, and how quickly and surprisingly he would find it; but vaguely
I felt that there was only one kind of work worth Eagle March's while:
soldier work.

Because I mustn't expect to hear, that did not prevent my writing from
the ship. "This isn't 'good-bye,'" I said. "Always I'll be looking
forward to great things for you. And (you may laugh, but I'm in earnest)
I shall live in the hope of 'righting' you in the world's eyes. The day
may come. I believe it will--the best day of my life."

When the _Mauretania_ passed "Liberty" I sent back a last message by the
statue to Eagle. "Till the day!" I said. But it was a pang to see the
last of her. I went down to my stateroom and cried--oh! how I cried!

As if to flaunt the glorious difference between this summer and last,
Father took a furnished house in Norfolk Street, Hyde Park, which was to
let with the owner's servants. It was very rich looking, though the
elaborate decorations reminded me of houses in moving-picture plays.
Father was able to splurge, on Di's prospects; and probably Kitty Main
contributed to the expense, for she and her maid came to stay with us.
We began to be expensively gay; and I believe if any duke or earl w