of enjoyment comes in, and I go home and pack a nice
lunch.

We arrive at Aldershot.

There is no one on the platform to meet us, and we push our way
through the turnstile.

There is Donald, on the outskirts of the waiting crowd--a tall,
soldierly figure in the uniform of a private--for he has resigned his
sergeant's stripes by now.

His face is very boyish--not the face of the photograph at the
beginning of this book: that was taken after he had been to France,
and had been wounded, and had written "A Passing in June," and "The
Honour of the Brigade"--but a much younger face, really boyish.

He glances quickly and anxiously at every face that passes, and each
time he is a little more disappointed--but he tries not to show it.

I am not tall and cannot catch his eye. It is like being at a play,
watching him! All at once he sees me! Involuntarily a sudden quick
spasm of joy passes across his face, absolutely transfiguring it.

He smooths it away quickly, for he is a Briton and does not like to
show his feelings--but he has given himself away!

Dorothy and I shall never forget that look. And it was for _me_--at
first he does not see Dorothy. When he does it is an added pleasure.

With _two_ ladies to escort he assumes a lordly air.

He had thought of everything. We would like some tea? Yes, all the big
places are shut as it is Sunday, but he has marked down a little place
on his way to the station.

It is a lovely day, and we are very happy!

The girl who waits upon us at the little tea place likes us, and so do
the other Tommies and their friends who are having tea there.

We sit at little tables, but at very close quarters with each other,
and we smile at them and they at us.

I have brought Donald some letters, which pleases him, and Dorothy has
brought him some splendid socks, knitted by herself.

After tea we walk across an arid plain to a little wood, and sit down
under the trees.

Donald changes to the new socks--those he had on were wringing wet!

He picks us little bunches of violets, hyacinths and wild strawberry
flowers--we have them still.

We are very happy the whole of the day, and have my sandwiches and
cake and fruit for supper, there under the trees. And here in thought
let me leave "The Student in Arms," who was to me part son, best pal,
brother, comrade, and counsellor on all subjects--and more than a
little bit of grandpapa!

He could be so many different things because, as anot