"Names?" cried Betty. "Oh, let me see!"
"Only the ships that have gone down. Our husbands' ships aren't mentioned."
"Wait while I get a paper," said Betty. "I shan't be a second. What are you going to do?"
The other considered a moment. "I shall go and see Mrs. Gascoigne," she replied. "Will you come too? She may have heard something."
Betty bought her paper and rejoined Eileen Cavendish in the street.
"Poor Mrs. Thatcher…" she said. "Did you see? Her husband's
Destroyer——"
"I know. And there are others, too. There must be five or six wives up here whose ships have gone—— Oh, it's too dreadful …" She was silent a moment while her merciless imagination ran riot. "I couldn't bear it!" she said piteously. "I couldn't bear it! I didn't whine when Barbara was taken. I thought I might have another baby…. But I couldn't have another Bill."
"Hush," said Betty, as if soothing a child. "We don't know yet. We mustn't take the worst for granted till we know. I expect we should have heard by now if—if——" She couldn't finish the sentence.
They reached the door of Mrs. Gascoigne's lodgings and the landlady opened the door. Her round, good-natured face wore an air of concern.
"She's just awa' to Mrs. Thatcher, west yonder. Will ye no' step inside and bide a wee? She'll no' be long, a'm thinkin'."