He beamed upon her, all his handsome face suffused with kindness and concern.

Bridget was amazed, but cautious.

’It’s awfully good of you—­but—­shouldn’t we have to get a servant?  I couldn’t do everything.’

Sir William laughed.

’Gracious—­I should think not!  There are always servants there—­it’s kept ready for us.  I put in a discharged soldier—­an army cook and his wife—­a few months ago.  They’re capital people.  I’m sure they’d look after you.  Well now, will you suggest that to Mrs. Sarratt?  Could I see her?’

Bridget hesitated.  Some instinct told her that Nelly would not wish to accept this proposal.  She said slowly—­

‘I’m afraid she’s very tired to-night.’

’Oh, don’t bother her then!  But just try and persuade her—­won’t you—­quietly?  And send me a word to-night.’

He gave the address.

’If I hear that you’ll come, I’ll make all the arrangements to-morrow morning before I leave for Westmorland.  You can just take her round in a taxi any time you like, and the servants will be quite ready for you.  You’ll be close to D——­ Street—­close to everything.  Now do!’

He stood with his hands on his side looking down eagerly and a little sharply on the hard-featured woman before him.

‘It’s awfully good of you,’ said Bridget again—­’most awfully good.  Of course I’ll tell Nelly what you say.’

‘And drop me a line to-night?’

‘Yes, I’ll write.’

Sir William took up his stick.

’Well, I shall put everything in train.  Tell her, please, what a pleasure she’d give us.  And she won’t keep Cicely away.  Cicely will be up next week.  But there’s plenty of room.  She and her maid wouldn’t make any difference to you.  And please tell Mrs. Sarratt too, that if there’s anything I can do—­anything—­she has only to let me know.’

* * * * *

Bridget went back to the room upstairs.  As she opened the door she saw Nelly standing under the electric light—­motionless.  Something in her attitude startled Bridget.

She called—­

‘Nelly!’

Nelly turned slowly, and Bridget saw that she had a letter in her hand.  Bridget ran up to her.

‘Have you heard anything?’

’He did write to me!—­he did!—­just the last minute—­in the trench.  I knew he must.  He gave it to an engineer officer who was going back to Headquarters, to post.  The officer was badly wounded as he went back.  They’ve sent it me from France.  The waiter brought me the letter just after you’d gone down.’

The words came in little panting gasps.

Then, suddenly, she slipped down beside the table at which Bridget had been working, and hid her face.  She was crying.  But it was very difficult weeping—­with few tears.  The slight frame shook from top to toe.

Bridget stood by her, not knowing what to do.  But she was conscious of a certain annoyance that she couldn’t begin at once on the subject of the flat.  She put her hand awkwardly on her sister’s shoulder.