“Well, do let us know, Gerald. We’d love to go and see him, wouldn’t we, Lucinda?”

“Yes,” I answered. “We would.”

In his precise way, Uncle Gerald sent the information to us in a few days.

My mother said it was not easy to leave the hospital but under the circumstances she thought it necessary.

Andrée said she would like to come with us. Not that she would accompany us to the hospital, for she was sure three people would be too many, but she wanted to go to London to get some things for Edward.

“Do you remember that musical box he had? It played the Brahms lullaby when it opened. I know he misses it. He was opening a box yesterday and clearly listening. He looked so disappointed because there was no tune.”

“Fancy his remembering all that time,” said my mother. “But it’s a haunting melody and I suppose even a child would be aware of that.”

“It is that and a few other things I should like to get,” said Andrée.

“It seems a good idea,” replied my mother.

So we went.

Marcus was in a ward with several other officers. He was lying on his back and not quite his usual exuberant self; but he grinned at us.

“This is wonderful,” he said. “How good of you to come and see this poor old crock.”

“I don’t think the term applies,” said my mother. “Gerald told us you were improving every day.”

“My progress will leap forward after this visit. Do sit down.”

“Please don’t move,” said my mother.

“It would be rather impossible, I fear. They’ve got me strapped up a bit.”

“How do you feel?”

“Wonderful…because you and Lucinda have come to see me.”

My mother laughed. “I’m serious, Major Merrivale.”

“So am I. And please don’t call me Major.”

“Marcus,” said my mother. “We are so glad that you are home.”

“Does that go for Miss Lucinda also?”

“Of course it does,” I said. “We were worried about you when we heard things were not going well.”

He grimaced. “Something of a shambles, eh? However, it’s brought me home.”

“Where you will be staying for some time,” added my mother.

“That seems very likely.”

“We were disappointed that you did not come to our hospital,” I told him.

“What a pleasure that would have been…worth getting hit for.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” said my mother. “Marchlands is an excellent place for convalescence. The forest, you know. Perhaps later on…”

“You mean I might come to Marchlands? Nothing could help me more to make a speedy recovery.”

“Then we shall do what we can to arrange it. I daresay Gerald could do something. He can fix most things.”

“From henceforth I shall make myself a nuisance here, so that they will be only too glad to get rid of me.”

I did not think that would be the case. It was clear that that inimitable charm worked here as everywhere else and the nurses enjoyed looking after him.

The matron came in while we were there—a stern-faced, middle-aged woman who looked as though she would be capable of keeping a regiment in order—and even she softened and chided him gently because he was getting too excited.

Our visit was not a long one, but it was the maximum time allowed.

I felt a little uneasy as we left the ward, for I was sure Marcus was putting on a show of being in a much better condition than he actually was.

My mother was able to have a word with the doctor before we left. Marchlands was now known in the medical world as one of those country houses given over to the wounded since the beginning of the war, and therefore a certain respect was accorded her.

We were taken into a small room, and seated at a desk was Dr. Glenning.

He told us to be seated, and my mother then said, “Major Merrivale is a very special friend. How badly has he been wounded?”

“Well, there are worse cases.”

“And better,” added my mother.

The doctor nodded. “Some internal injuries. A bullet—most fortunately—just missed his lungs. The bullet has been extracted, but as you know, it is a vital area and we have to be watchful. There is some damage to the right leg. But that is minor compared with the internal trouble.”

“I see. He is not…in danger?”

The doctor shook his head to and fro. “Oh, he’s got a good chance of recovery. He’s very strong…in excellent condition. I’d say his chances of getting back to normal are good, but it is going to take time.”

“My daughter and I were thinking that Marchlands would be a good place for him to come for convalescence. We were wondering if the major could come to us.”

“I could not allow him to be moved just now, and this is going to be a long job. Later…if he continues to improve…I don’t see why not. He’s going to need convalescence, and to be among friends would be good for him. Yes, I think in due course, Mrs. Greenham, he might well go to Marchlands.”

“And…he really is not in danger…?? I put in.

“No more than most. We’re never quite sure how these things are going to turn out. You probably know, Mrs. Greenham….But I would say he has a fair chance of recovery.”

“That’s good news,” said my mother. “Have you any idea about when…?”

The doctor pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.

“Well, I should think at least a couple of months.”

“As long as that!”

“Rather a grave injury, Mrs. Greenham.”

“Well, we shall look forward to receiving him at Marchlands. Will you let us know when it will be safe for him to come?”

“Indeed I will do that.”

“In the meanwhile we shall be visiting him. We came up especially today.”

“Marchlands keeps you busy, I’ve heard.”

“Very busy all the time.”

“We’ve had a rush of casualties after the Dardanelles debacle. Not that there are not a large number coming from France all the time.”

“Let’s hope it will soon be over.”

“I’d second that, Mrs. Greenham.”

He shook hands and repeated his promise that he would let us know when Marcus was well enough to travel, and we left the hospital in a happier mood than that in which we had arrived.

We had seen him. He was ill, but not so ill that he would not recover—and in time he would come to Marchlands.

Returning to Marchlands, I felt a sense of elation. I realized I was happier than I had been since the ill-fated Dardanelles venture had begun. I had been thinking about Marcus a great deal and every time the campaign had been mentioned, I had been conscious of a cold fear. Now it was over. He was wounded, yes; but he was still alive, and with his irrepressible spirits he would recover.

And in time we should have him under our care in Marchlands.

My mother sensed my mood and shared it.

“He is such a charming man,” she said. “I could not bear to think of anything happening to change him. He’ll recover quicker than most. Since the hospital started, I’ve noticed that optimism is one of the best cures to help a patient along the road to recovery.”

Andrée was eager to hear the news of Marcus, but I could see she wanted to get back to Marchlands and Edward. She hated leaving him even for a day.

It was about a week after our visit to London when I was awakened in the night by the sound of an explosion. My thoughts immediately went to the Zeppelin I had seen when the cottage near La Pinière had been attacked. We had to expect air raids. The Zeppelins were cumbersome objects and good targets for a firing squad, but they did present a great danger.

I leaped out of bed, put on my dressing gown and slippers and went out of my room.

Immediately I heard my mother’s voice. “Lucinda…are you all right? Charles…?”

Charles was already in the corridor. Some of the servants were there and I saw Miss Carruthers.

“That was a bomb, I am sure,” she said. “It must have been rather close.”

Mrs. Grey, the cook, had appeared.

“What was it, do you think, Mrs. Grey?” asked my mother.