He had been afraid that the Dean would make an address, or at the least would say a few words that would reduce some of the tiny congregation to tears. But Dr. Haworth was too wise for that, and perhaps he knew that nothing he could say could improve on the Beati omnes.
And it was then, towards the close of that wedding ceremony, that Sir Jacques suddenly made up his mind what should be the words graven inside what he intended should be his wedding gift to Rose Blake—that gift was a fine old-fashioned ruby ring, the only one of his mother’s jewels he possessed, and the words he then chose in his own mind were those of the Psalmist, “O well is thee, and happy shalt thou be.”
CHAPTER XXVI
Dear Mrs. Otway,
“I am so very glad to be able to send you the enclosed. Of course I have not read it. In fact I do not know German. But I gather that it contains news of Major Guthrie, and that it is written with a kindly intention. It was probably intended to arrive for Christmas.
“Yours very truly,
”Annabel Gaunt.
“P.S.—Any letters you write in answer must be left open.”
The envelope enclosed by Mrs. Gaunt, which bore the Censor’s stamp, had come from Switzerland, and had been forwarded by favour of the Geneva Red Cross.
With an indescribable feeling of suspense, of longing, and of relief, Mrs. Otway drew out the sheet of paper. It was closely covered with the cramped German characters with which she was, of course, familiar.
“Minden,
“15 December, 1914.
“Dear Madam,
“As Medical Superintendent of the Field Lazarette at Minden, I write on behalf of a British prisoner of war, Major Guthrie, who has now been under my care for fourteen weeks.