"How glad you must be!" exclaimed Billy.
Tom Turpin nodded.
"I am," he said simply, "and more grateful to God than I can express. It would be a blow to my parents if anything happened to me—they not having another child; but they'd bear it bravely if it came to them, knowing it was for the best."
"Oh, how could it be for the best?" cried Billy. "Was it for the best that my mother was killed? I can't think that!"
"Not now, perhaps, but you may some day—though perhaps that day won't be till you see God face to face and understand—oh, a lot of things that are just one big mystery now!"
The young soldier looked at Billy very kindly, with a world of sympathy in his clear blue eyes. When he spoke again it was to say—
"If I live to see the end of the war I shall most likely lay aside the sword for the plough, for I love everything to do with the country—from being country born and bred, I suppose. You're town-bred, aren't you?"
"Yes," assented Billy, "I've always lived in London; but my father came from Devonshire, and now I'm to live in Devonshire, too."
"Indeed?"
"Yes, with my grandfather—my father's father. He's going to meet me at Exeter. I've never seen him, and I've been wondering what I shall do if I can't find him."