AFTER that they walked about for a while, but the day was terribly hot, and all too soon the process of seeing London on foot amid the dust of a torrid July began to lose its charm for Melia. Besides, had they not seen the best of London already? Piccadilly Circus, it was true, was a washout; but they had seen Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square, and the outside of Madame Tussaud’s. Even in such a place as London what else was there to compare with these glories?

Such skepticism, however, was not according to the book, and the Special Providence which had been detailed to look after them on this entrancing day was soon able to bring that fact to their notice. For when they had come to the quadriga at the southwestern extremity of the Green Park, an equestrian piece which in the opinion of Corporal Hollis would have done no discredit to the recognized masterpieces in Blackhampton’s famous gallery, and they had sincerely admired it and the Corporal had placed his judgment on record, lo! beyond the arch, a short stone’s throw away, a certain Bus, 26 by name, the exact replica of Bus 49, that immortal machine, was miraculously awaiting them.

Bus 26 was going to the ZoÖlogical Gardens. And the highly efficient Special Providence who had the arrangements in hand had contrived to book two places on the top. That is to say its conductor informed the Corporal with an indulgent smile that there was just room outside for one and a little one. Whether the conductor would have extended the same accommodating politeness to a mere civilian belongs to the region of conjecture, but room was undoubtedly found for the Corporal’s lady, and by taking upon his knee a future Wellington—under the shadow of whose effigy the pleasing incident occurred—in the person of a Boy Scout in full panoply of war, the gallant Corporal contrived to make room for himself also.

At the ZoÖlogical Gardens they admired George, although rather glad to find that he was only a distant relation. They pitied the polar bears, they shuddered at the pythons, the parrots charmed them, the larger carnivora impressed them deeply! and then the Corporal looked at his watch, found it was a quarter to four and promptly ordered an ample repast for two persons.

The Genie in attendance made no bones at all about finding a small private table for them, beneath the shade of a friendly deodar which gave a touch of the Orient to the northwestern postal district and there they sat for one sweet and memorable hour. Perhaps it was the sweetest, most memorable hour that life so far had given them. She admired this man of hers in a way she had long ceased expecting to admire him; she was proud of him, she was grateful to him for the great sacrifice he was making. And when the inner Corporal had been comforted, a crude fellow who has to be humored even in moments of feeling, and he had lit a Blackhampton Straight Cut, a famous sedative known from Bond Street to Bagdad, he took the hand of the honest woman opposite.

Somehow he was glad to think that she belonged to him. The rather pale face, the careworn eyes, the tired smile were all he had to nerve him for the task ahead. These his only talisman in this grim hour. Yet, a true knight, he asked no more. She was his, a homely thing but a good and faithful one, who had once believed in him, who had come to believe in him again. He was able to recall the sacrifices she had made for him, for her faith in him, for her vision of him. As he looked across at her he felt content to bear the gauge of this honest, doggedly courageous woman who had helped to buckle on his armor. He must see that he didn’t disgrace her.

There was not much to say to one another. At the best of times they were seldom articulate. But she was able to tell him that she would be very lonely without him. And she made him promise solemnly to do his best to come back to her safely.

“You mean it?” He knew she meant it, but he allowed himself the luxury of embarrassing her. There was a subtle pleasure in it, even if it was not quite fair.

“You know I do, Bill. I’ll be that lonely.”

Poor old girl! Of course she would be lonely. It made him sigh a little when he thought how lonely she would be. He looked at her with a rather queer softness in his eyes. Their marriage seemed to have brought them no luck in anything. A time there had been, a time less than a year ago, when he had felt very thankful that there had been no children to hasten their steady, hopeless drift downhill. Now, however, it was a different story. Poor Melia! Her hand responded to the pressure of his fingers; and a large tear crept slowly into eyes that had known them perhaps too seldom.

“Never mind, Mother,” he said softly. “I mean to come back.”

“Yes, Bill.” The words had a curious intensity. “I mean you to. I’ve set my mind on it. And if you really set your mind on a thing happening——”

He loved the spirit in her, even if he felt obliged to touch wood as a concession to the manes of wisdom. It didn’t do to boast in times like these.

Presently they noticed that the heat was less. Bill looked again at his watch and then they realized that the hour of parting had drawn much nearer. Reluctantly they got up and left the gardens, so putting an end to an hour of life they would never forget. Then arm in arm they walked to Euston which was not far off, where the Corporal retrieved his kit from the Canteen and exchanged a valedictory smile with a R.S.P., although he didn’t feel like smiling. Thence by Tube to Waterloo. It was their first experience of this medium of travel. Even in Blackhampton, in so many ways the home of modernity, Tubes were unknown; they seemed exclusively, rather bewilderingly, metropolitan.

The attendant Genie had to be watchful indeed to prevent their going all round London en route from Euston to Waterloo, but it was so alive to its duties that they were only once baffled and then but temporarily. Thus in the end they found themselves on a seat on Platform Six with a full hour to wait for the Southampton train.

She left him at the carriage door, a few minutes before he was due out on his own grim journey, so that she might have plenty of time to catch the train for the north. Minute instructions had to be given to enable her to do this, for London is a bewildering maze to those not up to its ways. But the Corporal’s lady had a typical Blackhampton head, a thing cool, resolute, hardy in the presence of any severe demand upon it; and he was quite sure, and she was quite sure, that she would be able to catch the 8:55 from Euston, no matter what traps were laid for her.

It was a very simple good-by, but yet they were torn by it in a way they had hardly expected. She with her worn face and tired eyes was all there was to hold him to life—she and a terrible, impersonal sense of duty which seemed to frighten him almost. As he watched the drab figure disappear among the crowd on the long platform he couldn’t help wondering....

But it was no use wondering. He must set his teeth and get his head down and try to stick it no matter what the dark fates had in store.

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