"She has explained to you," said Saxham, "and that should be enough."
"Dear Owen! ... I am sure she wished you to know of it.... She has gone down to Seasheere, a little Naval Flying-station on the South-East coast, to meet Alan Sherbrand on the home-flight from Somewhere in France."
"I see in to-day's Wire that he has been gazetted Lieutenant," said Saxham. "One rather wonders, all things considered, that it has not happened before."
For not once nor twice in the past weeks the big smudgy contents-bills hung upon railings and worn as a chest-protector by newspaper-vendors, since paper became too scarce an article to line street-gutters with, had trumpeted the name of Sherbrand; and the big black-capitalled headings had set forth his deeds of daring. Only to-day they had announced:
"SHERBRAND OF THE R.F.C. STRAFES ANOTHER HUN-BIRD. BAG BROUGHT UP TO NINE, AND TWO ENEMY KITE-BALLOONS. POPULAR YOUNG AVIATOR NOW VISCOUNT NORWATER, HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE TO BRITISH EARL."
"He may be sent back to the Front at any moment—it is natural that they should wish to be together, don't you think?" The speaker added, as Saxham made no immediate rejoinder: "As they are engaged to be married, and what is more, engaged with your consent."
"She has told you so?"
"No!" A shadow of the old smile hovered upon the sensitive mouth. "I told her, and she could not deny it.... Oh, Owen! Do you really believe I have been blind all this time?"
"I should have known that women have clairvoyance in these matters. But Patrine feared that you would think her unfeeling or inconsiderate——"
"And why? Because when God sent me a great grief He gave my poor girl a great happiness? The best earthly happiness, save one, that He holds in His gift."