‘What wrought the miracle?’

But Nelly shook her head, and would not tell.

‘I had a letter from Marsworth a week ago,’ said Farrell reflecting—­’asking how and where we all were.  I told him I was tied and bound to Carton—­no chance of getting away for ages—­but that Cicely had kicked over the traces and gone up to London for a month.  Then he sent a post-card to say that he was coming up for a fortnight’s treatment, and would go to his old quarters at the Rectory.  Ah!—­’

He paused, grinning.  The same thought occurred to both of them.  Marsworth was still suffering very much at times from his neuralgia in the arm, and had a great belief in one of the Carton surgeons, who, with Farrell’s aid, had now installed one of the most complete electrical and gymnastic apparatus in the kingdom, at the Carton hospital.  Once, during an earlier absence of Cicely’s before Christmas, he had suddenly appeared at the Rectory, for ten days’ treatment; and now—­again!  Farrell laughed.

’As for Cicely, you can never count on her for a week together.  She got home-sick, and wired to me that she was coming to-night.  I forgot all about Marsworth.  I expect they met at the station; and quarrelled all the way here.  What on earth is Cicely after in that direction!  You say you’ve made friends with her.  Do you know?’

Nelly looked conscious.

‘I—­I guess something,’ she said.

‘But you mustn’t tell?’

She nodded, smiling.  Farrell shrugged his shoulders.

’Well, am I to encourage Marsworth—­supposing he comes to me for advice—­to go and propose to the Rector’s granddaughter?’

‘Certainly not!’ said Nelly, opening a pair of astonished eyes.

’Aha, I’ve caught you!  You’ve given the show away.  But you know’—­his tone grew serious—­’it’s not at all impossible that he may.  She torments him too much.’

‘He must do nothing of the kind,’ said Nelly, with decision.

’Well, you tell him so.  I wash my hands of them.  I can’t fathom either of them.  Here they are!’

Voices ascending the stairs announced the party.  Cicely came in first; tired and travel-stained, and apparently in the worst of tempers.  But she seemed glad to see Nelly Sarratt, whom she kissed, to the astonishment of her Cousin Hester, who was not as yet aware of the new relations between the two.  And then, flinging herself into a chair beside Nelly, she declared that she was dead-beat, that the train had been intolerably full of khaki, and that soldiers ought to have trains to themselves.

‘Thank your stars, Cicely, that you are allowed to travel at all,’ said Farrell.  ‘No civilian nowadays matters a hap’orth.’

‘And then we talk about Prussian Militarism!’ cried Cicely.  And she went off at score describing the invasion of her compartment at Rugby by a crowd of young officers, whose manners were ‘atrocious.’

‘What was their crime?’ asked Marsworth, quietly.  He sat in the background, cigarette in hand, a strong figure, rather harshly drawn, black hair slightly grizzled, a black moustache, civilian clothes.  He had filled out since the preceding summer and looked much better in health.  But his left arm was still generally in its sling.