Lucy and Marian went as usual to school, though Lucy could not learn her lessons and Miss Ellis did not reproach her. She was thankful, though, to be among other girls for a while, and away from the misery of her own thoughts. In the fortnight that had gone by since Bob was reported missing Lucy seemed to have passed through a year of her life, and, grown strangely quiet and purposeless, she followed Marian's suggestions without a murmur. She took the change in her cousin with no more than a vague surprise at her independence. She and her mother only felt that Marian's cheerful presence was a comfort, and her affectionate understanding of Lucy's grief promised to make of the two girls firm and devoted friends for ever after.
One day at noon Lucy came into the house with Marian to find her mother and father again together. Only this time her mother's face, lately so pale and sad, was touched with a gleam of her old brightness. Almost a smile hovered over her lips, and at sight of it Lucy sprang forward, crying, "What is it, Mother? Oh, tell me quick!"
Major Gordon did not look altogether cheerful as he turned to her, but his face was brave and hopeful.
"Don't expect too much," he said slowly, but Mrs. Gordon put a hand on Lucy's shoulders with a smile that brought a flood of joy to her heart.
"He's alive and unhurt, Lucy," she said, her voice trembling. "Read this."
A letter had lain on the table, and now Lucy snatched it from her mother's hand. With her heart pounding in her throat she dropped down on the floor, oblivious to all about her.
The writing was strange, and, stranger still, the letter was postmarked London. With shaky fingers Lucy drew out two sheets of ruled paper, covered with a neat, legible writing. She turned quickly to the signature. It was:
John Enright,
Corporal Ninth Lancashires,
By Nurse Everitt.
Amazed, Lucy found the beginning and read: