But she did not sleep at all well; for in imagination, she kept on seeing Noel turning from side to side in the big bed, and those great eyes of hers staring at the dark.

2

The meeting of the brothers Pierson took place at the dinner-hour, and was characterised by a truly English lack of display.  They were so extremely different, and had been together so little since early days in their old Buckinghamshire home, that they were practically strangers, with just the potent link of far-distant memories in common.  It was of these they talked, and about the war.  On this subject they agreed in the large, and differed in the narrow.  For instance, both thought they knew about Germany and other countries, and neither of course had any real knowledge of any country outside their own; for, though both had passed through considerable tracts of foreign ground at one time or another, they had never remarked anything except its surface,—­its churches, and its sunsets.  Again, both assumed that they were democrats, but neither knew the meaning of the word, nor felt that the working man could be really trusted; and both revered Church and, King:  Both disliked conscription, but considered it necessary.  Both favoured Home Rule for Ireland, but neither thought it possible to grant it.  Both wished for the war to end, but were for prosecuting it to Victory, and neither knew what they meant by that word.  So much for the large.  On the narrower issues, such as strategy, and the personality of their country’s leaders, they were opposed.  Edward was a Westerner, Robert an Easterner, as was natural in one who had lived twenty-five years in Ceylon.  Edward favoured the fallen government, Robert the risen.  Neither had any particular reasons for their partisanship except what he had read in the journals.  After all—­what other reasons could they have had?  Edward disliked the Harmsworth Press; Robert thought it was doing good.  Robert was explosive, and rather vague; Edward dreamy, and a little didactic.  Robert thought poor Ted looking like a ghost; Edward thought poor Bob looking like the setting sun.  Their faces were indeed as curiously contrasted as their views and voices; the pale-dark, hollowed, narrow face of Edward, with its short, pointed beard, and the red-skinned, broad, full, whiskered face of Robert.  They parted for the night with an affectionate hand-clasp.  So began a queer partnership which consisted, as the days went on, of half an hour’s companionship at breakfast, each reading the paper; and of dinner together perhaps three times a week.  Each thought his brother very odd, but continued to hold the highest opinion of him.  And, behind it all, the deep tribal sense that they stood together in trouble, grew.  But of that trouble they never spoke, though not seldom Robert would lower his journal, and above the glasses perched on his well-shaped nose, contemplate his brother, and a little frown of sympathy would ridge his forehead