'Else for what will these boys have given their lives!--what meaning
in the suffering and the agony!--or in the world which permits and
begets them?'
Then, at last, it was past seven o'clock. The dusk had fallen, and
the stars were coming out in a pure pale blue, over the leafless
trees. Elizabeth and Alice Gaddesden stood waiting at the open door
of the hall. A motor ambulance was meeting the train. They would
soon be here now.
Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Gaddesden.
'Won't you give a last look and see if it is all right?'
Alice's weak, pretty face cleared, as she went off to give a final
survey to Desmond's room. She admitted that Elizabeth had been
'nice' that day, and all the days before. Perhaps she had been
hasty.
Lights among the distant trees! Elizabeth thought of the boy who had
gone out from that door, two months before, in the charm and beauty
of his young manhood. What wreck was it they were bringing back?
Then the remembrance stabbed her of that curt note from France--of
what Mrs.
Pages:
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421