“Throw away all thought of the present,” returned Mr. Lavender, with intense earnestness; “forget the past entirely, wrap yourselves wholly in the future.  Do nothing which will give you immediate satisfaction.  Do not consider your families, or any of those transient considerations such as pleasure, your homes, your condition of health, or your economic position; but place yourselves unreservedly in the hands of those who by hard thinking on this subject are alone in the condition to appreciate the individual circumstances of each of you.  For only by becoming a flock of sheep can you be conducted into those new pastures where the grass of your future will be sweet and plentiful.  Above all, continue to be the heroes which you were under the spur of your country’s call, for you must remember that your country is still calling you.”

“That’s right,” said the soldier on Mr. Lavender’s left.  “Puss, puss!  Does your dog swot cats?”

At so irrelevant a remark Mr. Lavender looked suspiciously from left to right, but what there was of the soldiers’ faces told him nothing.

“Which is your hospital?” he asked.

“Down the ’ill, on the right,” returned the soldier.  “Which is yours?”

“Alas! it is not in a hospital that I——­”

“I know,” said the soldier delicately, “don’t give it a name; no need.  We’re all friends ’ere.  Do you get out much?”

“I always take an afternoon stroll,” said Mr. Lavender, “when my public life permits.  If you think your comrades would like me to come and lecture to them on their future I should be only too happy.”

“D’you ’ear, Alf?” said the soldier.  “D’you think they would?”

The soldier, addressed put a finger to the sound side of his mouth and uttered a catcall.

“I might effect a radical change in their views,” continued Mr. Lavender, a little puzzled.  “Let me leave you this periodical.  Read it, and you will see how extremely vital all that I have been saying is.  And then, perhaps, if you would send me a round robin, such as is usual in a democratic country, I could pop over almost any day after five.  I sometimes feel”—­and here Mr. Lavender stopped in the middle of the road, overcome by sudden emotion—­“that I have really no right to be alive when I see what you have suffered for me.”

“That’s all right, old bean,”, said the soldier on his left; “you’d ’a done the same for us but for your disabilities.  We don’t grudge it you.”

“Boys,” said Mr. Lavender, “you are men.  I cannot tell you how much I admire and love you.”

“Well, give it a rest, then; t’ain’t good for yer.  And, look ’ere!  Any time they don’t treat you fair in there, tip us the wink, and we’ll come over and do in your ’ousekeeper.”

Mr. Lavender smiled.

“My poor housekeeper!” he said.  “I thank you all the same for your charming goodwill.  This is where I live,” he added, stopping at the gate of the little house smothered in lilac and laburnum.  “Can I offer you some tea?”