anything so fresh and pretty as you are, my dear!" she
had exclaimed.

Mrs. Otway heard Rose's news with no sense of
surprise. She felt as if she were living in a dream -- a
dream which was at once poignantly sad and yet exquisitely,
unbelievably happy. "I have been there
several times lately," she said, in a low voice, "and I
had grown quite fond of her. Of course I'll go. Will
you telephone for a fly? I'd rather be alone there, my
dear."

Rose lingered on in the garden for a moment. Then
she said slowly, reluctantly: "And mother? I'm
afraid there's rather bad news of Major Guthrie. It
came last night, before Mrs. Guthrie went to bed. The
butler says she took it very bravely and quietly, but I
suppose it was that which -- which brought about her
death."

"What _is_ the news?"

Mrs. Otway's dream-impression vanished. She got
up from the basket-chair in which she had been sitting,
and her voice to herself sounded strangely loud and
unregulated.

"What is it, Rose? Why don't you tell me? Has
he been killed?"

"Oh, no -- it's not as bad as that! Oh! mother, don't
look so unhappy -- it's only that he's 'wounded and
missing.'"

[[188]]

p187 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p188w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p189

v?