“And mine is Phyllis.” Then she hurried to add, “I was going to say that you helped me this afternoon as nothing has since my dear brothers went.”
“Thank you, Phyllis. What you have been to me through all these days, I wish I could tell, but I can't find words.”
Then they rode together in silence that was more eloquent than any words of theirs could be. At length Barry burst forth enthusiastically:
“Those Americans! What a beautiful and gracious act of kindness that was to me.”
“Oh,” replied Phyllis, with answering enthusiasm, “aren't they fine! That was perfectly ripping of them.”
CHAPTER XIII
INTENSIVE TRAINING
Barry's return to the battalion was like a coming home. In the mess there was no demonstration of sympathy with him in his loss, but the officers took occasion to drop in casually with an interesting bit of news, seeking to express, more or less awkwardly, by their presence what they found it impossible to express in actual words.
It was to Barry an experience as new as it was delightful. Hitherto, as far as any real fellowship was concerned he had lived a life of comparative isolation among his fellow officers, and while they were careful to preserve the conventions and courtesies imposed by their mutual relations, he had ever been made to feel that in that circle he was an outsider.