“I dread seeing her,” said Larry, as they approached the house.
“Well, you need not dread that,” said Jane.
And after one look at Helen's face Larry knew that Jane was right. The bright colour in the face, the proud carriage of the head, the saucy look in the eye, once so characteristic of the “beauty queen” of the 'Varsity, were all gone. But the face was no less beautiful, the head carried no less proudly, the eye no less bright. There was no shrinking in her conversation from the tragic fact of her lover's death. She spoke quite freely of Scuddy's work in the battalion, of his place with the men and of how they loved him, and all with a fine, high pride in him.
“The officers, from the Colonel down, have been so good to me,” she said. “They have told me so many things about Harry. And the Sergeants and the Corporals, every one in his company, have written me. They are beautiful letters. They make me laugh and cry, but I love them. Dear boys, how I love them, and how I love to work for them!” She showed Larry a thick bundle of letters. “And they all say he was so jolly. I like that, for you know, being a Y. M. C. A. man in college and always keen about that sort of thing—I am afraid I did not help him much in that way—he was not so fearfully jolly. But now I am glad he was that kind of a man, a good man, I mean, in the best way, and that he was always jolly. One boy says, 'He always bucked me up to do my best,' and another, a Sergeant, says, 'He put the fear of God into the slackers,' and the Colonel says, 'He was a moral tonic in the mess,' and his chum officer said, 'He kept us all jolly and clean.' I love that. So you see I simply have to buck up and be jolly too.”
“Helen, you are wonderful,” said Larry, who was openly wiping away his tears. “Scuddy was a big man, a better man I never knew, and you are worthy of him.”
They were passing out of the room when Helen pulled Larry back again. “Larry,” she said, her words coming with breathless haste, “don't wait, oh, don't wait. Marry Jane before you go. That is my great regret to-day. Harry wanted to be married and I did too. But father and mother did not think it wise. They did not know. How could they? Oh! Larry,” she suddenly wrung her hands, “he wished it so. Now I know it would have been best. Don't make my mistake, don't, Larry. Don't make my mistake. Thank you for coming to see me. Good-bye, Larry, dear. You were his best friend. He loved you so.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, hastily wiped her eyes, and passed out to Jane with a smiling face.
They hurried away, for the hours in Winnipeg were short and there was much to do and much to say.
“Let her go, Jane,” said Larry. “I am in a deuce of a hurry.”
“Why, Larry, what is the rush about just now?” said Jane in a slightly grieved voice.
“I have something I must attend to at once,” said Larry. “So let her go.” And Jane drove hard, for the most part in silence, till they reached home.