“Look here,” George broke out, “there’s one thing more. I want to tell you that I know what a lot I owe to you and Adele. You’ve both been awfully fine: did you know it? You two first made me feel a lot of things I hadn’t felt before. And you know this is my job; I’ve never been surer of it than at this minute.”

They clasped hands in silence, each looking his fill of the other; then the crowd closed in, George exclaimed: “My kit-bag!” and somehow, in the confusion, the parting was over, and Campton, straining blurred eyes, saw his son’s smile—the smile of the light-hearted lad of old days—flash out at him from the moving train. For an instant the father had the illusion that it was the goodbye look of the boy George, going back to school after the holidays.


Campton, as he came out of the station, stumbled, to his surprise, on Mr. Brant. The little man, as they met, flushed and paled, and sought the customary support from his eye-glasses.

“I followed you in the other motor,” he said, looking away.

“Oh, I say——” Campton murmured; then, with an effort: “Shouldn’t you like me to drive back with you?”

Mr. Brant shook his head. “Thank you. Thank you very much. But it’s late and you’ll want to be getting home. I’ll be glad if you’ll use my car.” Together they strolled slowly across the station court to the place where the private motors waited; but there Campton held out his hand.

“Much obliged; I think I’ll walk.”

Mr. Brant nodded; then he said abruptly: “This clairvoyante business: is there anything in it, do you think? You saw how calm—er—Julia was just now: she wished me to tell you that that Spanish woman she goes to—her name is Olida, I think—had absolutely reassured her about ... about the future. The woman says she knows that George will come back soon, and never be sent to the front again. Those were the exact words, I believe. Never be sent to the front again. Julia put every kind of question, and couldn’t trip her up; she wanted me to tell you so. It does sound...? Well, at any rate, it’s a help to the mothers.”

XXXIV