's hard to be
sensible always."

How I wished I could help him even in so small and humble a fashion! At
least, I could try to draw his thoughts away for the moment from the
unhealed wound violently torn open. It was a temptation to dwell on it,
to look at it and feed my anger; but on his wistful hint I threw the
temptation off. Instead of returning to our interrupted talk of his
adventures as I wished to do, I answered Eagle's questions about life at
"The Haven," and told him pathetic or funny stories of our refugees.
"I'm getting to be quite a weird combination of Red Cross nurse,
nursery-governess, and nursemaid," I said. "I really ought to design
some special sort of costume suited to my _metier_, but I've never had
time to think one out yet! Meanwhile, I wear a badge which keeps up my
courage, and gives me back my strength whenever I'm tired. You couldn't
guess what it is!"

"The flag of the Allies?" he ventured.

"No. The chevron you gave me when you made me your corporal. Do you
remember?"

I saw by his eyes that he was touched. A gleam of the old light flashed
into them, and brightened his smile. "Do I remember?" he echoed. "Yes, I
remember, Peggy, only too well. And I remember the day you flew with me
from Hendon in the poor old _Golden Eagle_, heaven rest her ashes! The
day when--when Lady Diana failed me, and your pluck and presence of mind
saved us both from coming to grief. I remember lots of other things
you've probably forgotten; and I use the memories for balm."

I had to look down suddenly to hide the tears that stung my eyelids. But
I winked them away in an instant, and was bracing myself to make him
laugh by mimicking the man who had introduced us: Nebuchadnezzar of
Wardour Street.

When great hothouse peaches and amethyst bunches of grapes were brought
by the footman, I knew that soon Princess Sanzanow would smile at the
French duchess, and we should all troop away to leave the men. I was
sure that Eagle would not join the ladies conventionally in the
drawing-room, and I did not want that summons to mean a long good-bye. I
asked hastily, therefore, if he would come and see me and the Miss
Splatchleys and our Belgians at "The Haven," when he had grown a little
stronger.

"I'm strong enough now," he said. "Write to-morrow to tell me when I may
come, and let it be soon, for the minute I'm fit I shall go back to the
front, of course."

"Of course," I repeated firmly, though my heart felt as if