“The Prince of Wales had been instrumental in starting a big moss depot for the preparation of surgical dressings; and both my husband and I joined this station, where the sphagnum moss was collected from the bogs of Dartmoor, dried, cleaned, treated chemically, and dispatched to all the war hospitals of the kingdom.  A busy little company carried on this good work and, while I joined the women who picked and cleaned the moss, my husband, though not strong enough to tramp the moors and do the heavy work of collecting it and bringing it up to Princetown, was instrumental in drying it and spreading it on the asphalt lawn-tennis courts of the prison warders’ cricket ground, where this preliminary process was carried out.  Michael also kept records and accounts and indeed organized the whole depot to perfection.

“For nearly two years we stuck to this task, lodging here with Mrs. Gerry.  During that time I fell in love with Dartmoor and begged my husband to build me a bungalow up here when the war was ended, if he could afford to do so.  His pilchard trade with Italy practically came to an end after the summer of 1914.  But the company of Pendean and Trecarrow owned some good little steamers and these were soon very valuable.  So Michael, who had got to care for Dartmoor as much as I did, presently took steps and succeeded in obtaining a long lease of a beautiful and sheltered spot near Foggintor quarries, a few miles from here.

“Meanwhile I had heard nothing from my uncles, though I had seen Uncle Robert’s name in the paper among those who had won the D.S.O.  Michael advised me to leave the question of my money until after the war, and so I did.  We began our bungalow last year and came back to live with Mrs. Gerry until it should be completed.

“Six months ago I wrote to Uncle Albert in Italy and he told me that he should deliberate the proposition; but he still much resented my marriage.  I wrote to Uncle Bendigo at Dartmouth also, who was now in his new home; but while not particularly angry with me, his reply spoke slightingly of my dear husband.

“These facts bring me to the situation that suddenly developed a week ago, Mr. Brendon.”  She stopped and sighed again.

“I much fear that I am tiring you out,” he said.  “Would you like to leave the rest?”

“No.  For the sake of clearness it is better you hear everything now.  A week ago I was walking out of the post-office, when who should suddenly stop in front of me on a motor bicycle but Uncle Robert?  I waited only to see him dismount and set his machine on a rest before the post-office.  Then I approached him.  My arms were round his neck and I was kissing him before he had time to know what had happened, for I need not tell you that I had long since forgiven him.  He frowned at first but at last relented.  He was lodging at Paignton, down on Torbay, for the summer months, and he hinted that he was engaged to be married.  I behaved as nicely as I knew how, and when he told me that he was going on to Plymouth for a few days before returning to his present quarters, I implored him to let the past go and be friends and come and talk to my husband.