“I was in a bit o’ a mullock,” Private James Akroyd’s letter went on, “t’ last time we were i’ t’ trenches; ’twern’t mich to tell abaat, but ’twere hot while it lasted.  There’s lads says I’m baan to get a V.C.  But don’t thou hark tul ’em; V.C.’s are noan for t’ likes o’ me.

“Jim.”

“Is that all?” asked Annie, as her mother folded up the letter.  “Don’t he want to know how mony teeth aar Jimmy’s gotten, or owt abaat t’ pot-dogs I bowt i’ t’ markit.”

“Nay, that’s all,” replied her mother, “without there’s summat else i’ t’ helmet.”  As she spoke she searched the helmet, and soon produced another letter.  It also was addressed to “Mrs Annie Akroyd,” but in a woman’s hand.  She opened the envelope and proceeded to read it aloud.

“Dear Mrs Akroyd,—­You will have received a telegram from the War Office telling you of your husband’s death——­”

As she heard the dreadful tidings, Annie turned deadly pale for a moment; then the blood rushed streaming back, till face and neck were crimson.

“It’s a lee,” she shouted, “a wicked lee.  I ain’t gotten no tillygram, an’ he said he were well an’ enjoyin’ a rest-cure.”

Then she snatched the letter from her mother’s trembling hands and, with swimming eyes, read it to herself.  It had been written by the hospital nurse, and continued as follows:—­

“He was terribly wounded when he was brought here, but I cannot tell you how splendid he was.  All his thoughts were of you and your little boy, and he would write to you himself, though I wanted him to give me the pencil and paper.  He said that if he didn’t write himself, you would know that something was wrong with him.

“The Colonel came here specially to see him, and he told me that he should certainly recommend him for the V.C.  Your husband was a brave man and did brave things; he gave his life to save another’s.  He was wounded with shrapnel in the head and spine as he was crossing No Man’s Land.  The officer to whom he was attached as orderly had been hit in one of the shell-holes, and your husband crawled out of his trench in full view of the enemy’s line, and brought him back.  It was on the return journey that he received his wounds.  The officer is safe, and will recover.

“Great as your sorrow must be, I hope you will be cheered by the thought that your husband laid down his life for you and me and all of us.  If the V.C. is granted, you will have to go to Buckingham Palace to receive it, and I am sure the King would like you to take your little boy with you.

“Yours in truest sympathy,

“Nurse Goodwin.”

When Annie had finished the letter she let it fall, and, staggering to a seat, flung her hands, still wet and bleached with the labours of the washtub, upon the table; then, burying her face in them she sobbed her heart out.

“I don’t want no V.C.,” she exclaimed at last, between her sobs.  “I want my Jim!”