ALL'S WELL
It was something more than four years later, when the Armistice was signed amid world-wide rejoicings of the Allied Nations, that a young soldier, bronzed and upright, rang the bell of a beautiful flat in Brighton, over-looking the sea. Above his breast pocket, on the left, were two ribbons, the D.S.O. and the M.C., the sight of which had won him glances of approval and soft looks of admiration, all the way along. Those bits of ribbon told wordlessly of self-sacrifice and devotion to duty; valour and endurance;—they suggested to the subconscious mind, danger, bodily discomfort, and endurance to the limit of human suffering, so that this brisk little freckled officer of very ordinary looks, was marked for all time, by those who knew, as one of the many special heroes of the most terrible war the world has ever known.
He was shown into the drawing-room, and, in a moment, a gracious lady swept in with welcome in her eyes and both hands extended.
"Oh, Tommy!—how good it is to see you safe!"
"And to see you looking so fit, Honey—dear old girl!"
"I was beginning to feel quite anxious, as you had not written for a month!"
"There was so much doing. Besides, I was reserving it all for our meeting."
They had much to talk about; he, of his vicissitudes in Mesopotamia, and she, of her husband and his work in the war-hospital in Brighton to which he was attached. Last of all, Tommy asked to see his god-son to whom he had yet to be introduced.
"He is such a perfect darling!" said Honor beaming upon her visitor happily; "the very image of Brian." Pressing a bell, she gave her orders which were promptly obeyed by a nurse who entered with the baby, a lusty boy with grey-green eyes, and lips firmly locked in a cupid's bow.
"Hullo!" said Tommy, "shake hands with 'Uncle'!"
"Say, 'How do'?" said Honor, kissing the velvet cheek.
"'Ow do!" said Baby staring at the pretty coloured ribbons on the khaki tunic.
"This is the age at which I like them best," said Tommy admiringly. "He's 'some' kid! Do you remember trying to interest me in the Meredith infant when it was a glorified dummy in long clothes?"
"Yes, and you wasted your energies trying to fix its attention when it did not know you from a mango tree!" They laughed heartily at the recollection.
"Where are the Merediths, by the way?"
"They are stationed at Darjeeling, which suits the baby very well—perhaps you don't know that there is another baby?"
"I believe Jack wrote something of the sort, some little time back."
"A baby girl this time, and getting on splendidly."
"Where is the first?—still with the grandparents?"
"Yes. I saw him not long ago—such a beautiful boy and so independent! The old people are so proud of him. Do you know that Jack and Kitty are at home?"
"No! When did they come? I did not know that women were allowed passages?"
"They managed to 'wangle' it, somehow. Jack had malaria and was ordered home by the doctors. It was a most exciting voyage, from all accounts, for their boat was chased by a submarine in the Bay of Biscay and escaped two torpedoes by a miracle."
"Horrible!"
"Kitty says she would not have missed the experience for anything; but Jack declares the anxiety has taken ten years off his life."
"Dear old Jack! Where are they? I shall look them up."
"Staying with his people. They are in love with Kitty and can't make enough of her."
"And what are your plans now that the war is over?"
"Brian expects to return to India, in which case, we go with him."
"You'll take the baby?"
"Most assuredly! Master Tommy is not going to be left behind by his Mummy—not on any account!"
"But the climate? I thought it does not agree with babies?"
"It agrees quite well; at least for the first few years. I am not so sure about it later on, but, 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' We'll begin to think about sending him home when he turns seven. You see, we have the hills, and life is too short for unnecessary partings."
"I am with you there! How are Mr. and Mrs. Bright?"
"As usual, thank you. Father retires after the New Year, and they will live in Edinburgh. And what of your plans, Tommy?"
"I dare say I shall be back in the Police again, before long."
"And have you not found any one yet as a life-partner, to make India worth while?" she asked kindly.
Tommy smiled. "I am in no hurry, being difficult to please. I shall have to find the lady whose price, according to old Solomon, is 'far above rubies,' or remain in single blessedness all my days."
"You'll find her right enough if you know where to look, and how!" said Honor laughing. "Her natural element is the country home."
THE END.
[1] Magistrate.
[2] Scullion.
[3] Butler.
[4] Motor-car.
[5] Brother.
[6] Mountains.
[7] Commission.
[8] Big House.
[9] Chat.
[10] Indian drum.
[11] Curtains.
[12] Fairs.
[13] Hindu festival.
[14] Magic.
[15] Earthen receptacle.
[16] Indian blackberry.
[17] Butter converted into oil by boiling.
[18] With Fate lay the decision.
[19] Fair.
[20] Dish-cloths.
[21] Dwelling.
[22] Low-caste Hindus.
OTHER BOOKS TO READ
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
The Reproof of Chance
The Blind Alley
The Daughter-in-Law
Baba and the Black Sheep
Sinners All
Mistress of Herself
A Selection from the Catalogue of
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
Blue Aloes
By Cynthia Stockley
Author of "Poppy," "The Claw," "Wild Honey," etc.
No writer can so unfailingly summons and materialize the spirit of the weird, mysterious South Africa as can Cynthia Stockley. She is a favored medium through whom the great Dark Continent its tales unfolds.
A strange story is this, of a Karoo farm,—a hedge of Blue Aloes, a cactus of fantastic beauty, which shelters a myriad of creeping things,—a whisper and a summons in the dead of the night,—an odor of death and the old.
There are three other stories in the book, stories throbbing with the sudden, intense passion and the mystic atmosphere of the Veldt.
Unconquered
By Maud Diver
Author of "Captain Desmond, V.C.," "Desmond's Daughter," "The Great Amulet," etc.
In this book, Maud Diver proves that she needs no Indian background against which to work a powerful and emotional drama. This novel is called by the author, "an episode of 1914," and is the story of a vigorous out-of-doors man who, severely wounded, is brought home in the early days of the war, and of the girl who is repelled by the physical imperfections of her one-time handsome and sturdy lover. The other sort of girl is also in this tale, the slacker and the pacifist. It is a strong story, admirably told by a master novelist.
Desmond's Daughter
By Maud Diver
"Desmond's Daughter is an Anglo-Indian novel of much more than ordinary importance. As a study of a complex character it has remarkable power.... Mrs. Diver understands the English officer thoroughly and does not spare his weaknesses; but that she appreciates his good points is shown in her true and vivid story of the Tirah Campaign. It is this which gives the book the right to be regarded as an historical novel of first importance; and there is no more striking illustration of our methods of governing and holding our Indian Empire than this stimulating and convincing story."—Aberdeen Free Press.
"The present War is not mentioned in these pages; yet the spirit of England at war is in them, the spirit of those clean-cut young Englishmen, who know so well how to die.... There is more than entertainment in Mrs. Diver's books; more than serious interest, though they have much of both. In them speaks England's faith in her sons and daughters; in the qualities which have made her race great and powerful and fit to endure." New York Tribune.
GREATHEART
By Ethel M. Dell
There were two of them—as unlike as two men could be. Sir Eustace, big, domineering, haughty, used to sweeping all before him with the power of his personality.
The other was Stumpy, small, insignificant, quiet, with a little limp.
They clashed over the greatest question that may come to men—the love of a girl.
She took Sir Eustace just because she could not help herself—and was swept ahead on the tide of his passion.
And then, when she needed help most—on the day before the wedding—Stumpy saved her—and the quiet flame of his eyes was more than the brute power of his brother.
How did it all come out? Did she choose wisely? Is Greatheart more to be desired than great riches? The answer is the most vivid and charming story that Ethel M. Dell has written in a long time.