Eleanora H. Stooke

“ As Uncle John says, the war has evidently brought out the best in him."
"Ah, it's a fine thing to be a soldier!" sighed Donald.
"We are all soldiers," Captain Basset answered, "and life's a stiff battle for us all if we're trying to fight the good fight. To some the battle is short, to others long, but, short or long, we shall win through to Victory if we trust in God. ”

“ In the doorway of the study she paused. Miss Basset was seated in an easy chair, her handkerchief held to her eyes, and Dr. Farrant and Mr. Basset were standing by the writing-table, the latter with a telegram in his hand.
It was Dr. Farrant who stepped quickly to Josephine's side, and drew her into the room.
"My dear," he said, "your uncle wishes me to tell you that there is news of your father—"
"Is he dead?" Josephine interrupted, her voice betraying the agony of her mind. "That's what I want to know! Is he dead?"
"No, no!" Dr. Farrant assured her. ”

“ Basset," thought Margaret Cummings, as she entered the grounds of the Glen one fine June morning, some few days after the master of the house had set out on his journey to Boulogne; "I hope so I am sure—whatever news he may have had to send. Anything is better than suspense. Poor Josephine! She's very brave, but the sight of her white, set face shows what she's enduring. Ah, there she is beneath the porch, on the look out for me! Then there's news! ”

“ And yet I know God is watching over father—that He loves him—oh, a hundred times better than I do, and knows what's best for him, but—but—oh, Uncle John, this wicked, terrible war! Why does God allow it?"
Mr. Basset shook his head. "That is a mystery which we cannot solve," he said; "perhaps it will be plain to us when we no longer see through a glass darkly, but in the clear light of the world to come. We cannot judge now what the effects of the war will be—"
He broke off suddenly as the door opened and May entered, her pretty face aglow with excitement.
"Oh, Josephine!" ”

“ She was a trying woman to live with, for she persistently looked on the dark side of things. Thus it was that when, one chilly afternoon, she and her daughter sat taking their tea together in their cosy little parlour and she heard that Josephine Basset had received a letter from Captain Basset, from France, she shook her head mournfully and said—
"Ah, poor child, poor child! To think that that letter may be his last!"
"We won't think anything of the kind, mother," was the quick rejoinder; "it's wrong to anticipate trouble." ”

“ If she is a nice child it will be pleasant for May. Poor little soul, I dare say she's in dreadful trouble about her father—because he's gone to the war, I mean. She may never see him again."
"Or he may live to win the Victoria Cross!" cried Donald, his eyes sparkling. Then, as Miss Basset left the room, he continued: "Oh, how I wish I was a man and able to enlist in the army! When I think of those poor Belgians fighting so bravely I long to be a few years older—but, there, my knee will prevent my ever being a soldier now, I suppose!" ”

“ You had a governess in India, had you not, Josephine?"
"Yes, Uncle John," Josephine answered, "Miss Ford. She was a niece of Mrs. Ford's. Last June, though, she was married, and since then I've had a holiday—father thought it would do me no harm. Miss Ford and I were great friends."
"I don't think I could ever be very friendly with Miss Cummings," observed May. "Those Fords must be very nice people," she added.
"They are dears—all of them!" Josephine declared. "Colonel Ford is a splendid soldier; I believe his men would die for him."
"Do you mean the Indian soldiers?" asked Donald. ”

“ Ah, Josephine, I have so much to be thankful for! So many have been injured far worse than I have and yet live! Several poor fellows I know have lost their memories, but mine has been spared. I can picture your dear mother as well as though I had seen her yesterday, and Aunt Ann, and Uncle John, and—oh, every one I know! ”

“ I don't know him myself, but—"
"Oh!" interposed Josephine excitedly, "you mean Dick Rumbelow!"
Her father assented.
"I understand his name is in all the newspapers to-day," he said; "his mother must be proud of him."
"Oh, I wonder if she knows!" cried May.
"She does by this time if she did not before," Captain Basset answered, "for Aunt Ann has sent her niece Jane to tell her."
"Good Aunt Ann!" exclaimed Donald. "Fancy Dick Rumbelow, the scapegrace, winning the V.C.! Well, I'm glad!"
"So am I!" Captain Basset replied heartily; "I'm sure he deserves it. He must be a very brave man. ”

“ Josephine answered, "we can come again another day. Oh, how sweet these buds smell! I must add a postscript to my letter to father, and tell him the primroses are coming out; he's often talked to me of the primroses in Durley Dell. Oh, May, won't it be splendid if he is able to come home for a few days soon, as, if all goes well, he says he may?"
"Yes, indeed," May agreed. "I can imagine how you are longing to see him," she added; "I think you've been ever so brave all through the long, long winter."
"It's the suspense that's so hard to bear," Josephine said; "I feel it here." ”

“ I am thinking now of being a doctor, then, if there's a war, I shall be able to go to the front and attend to the wounded. Mrs. Ford says the doctors have often to do their work under fire, and they are quite as brave as the soldiers. I like talking to Mrs. Ford."
"Oh, I knew he would!" Josephine said, looking pleased, "every one does! She's such good company—so bright and always seems to know what it interests one to talk about. Should you like Donald to be a doctor?"
"Yes," May assented, "I should like him to be one like Dr. Farrant who is, oh, ever so good and kind. Why, there he is! ”

“ It's the hardest fight of all, father says, but we've all got to fight it if we're Christians. It's for truth, and honour, and love, and everything that's good against all that's false and selfish and bad. It's just being on the side of Jesus—being soldiers of the Cross, you know!"
She looked from the brother to the sister as she spoke. May met her dark eyes with an eager expression in her blue ones; her thoughts had flown to Mrs. Dicker, who had said she had had to fight selfishness and it hadn't been easy.
"I think you are a very extraordinary girl," said Donald, "and very old for your age." ”

“ Captain Basset questioned by and by.
"As happy as I could be anywhere without you, father," she answered; "I ought to be, for every one is so kind to me! May and I are like sisters, and Donald—well, he's very nice sometimes, too."
"Only sometimes?"
Josephine nodded.
"Sometimes no one can please him," she explained gravely; "they say he wasn't like that before his accident—it is his accident that has spoilt his temper Aunt Ann says. He wanted to be a soldier, you know; but that will be impossible now on account of his lame knee. It will never be quite right the doctors say. ”

“ This morning, as they came to the big iron gate leading into the shrubbery which hid the Glen and its gardens from the high road, they found an elderly gentleman there with a pretty, fair-haired, blue-eyed little girl, and a boy leaning on a crutch. They saluted them as they passed by.
"I seem to know the faces of some of them," remarked Mr. Basset, as the last line of khaki-clad figures disappeared from view.
"A lot of them are Midbury men," Donald answered. "How well they are marching!—much better than they did a week ago! Did you notice young Dicker, May?" ”

“ First thing this morning I telegraphed to the War Office, and have heard in reply that Captain Basset has been wounded by shrapnel in the face and head—"
"Seriously?" broke in Josephine. Then, as Dr. Farrant gravely assented, she uttered a faint moaning cry and covered her face with her hands.
"Remember seriously wounded may not mean mortally wounded," Dr. Farrant hastened to remind her; "do not make up your mind that your father will not be restored to you."
"No, I will not!" The poor child uncovered her face. "Oh, I hope—I pray that he is not suffering much! My dear, dear father! ”

“ Josephine scrambled out of the ditch, and ran with them to the gateway. The gate was closed, and safely imprisoned in the field beyond was the bull, guarded by the sheep-dog, who had ceased barking, whilst outside the gate, leaning against it for support and nearly in a state of collapse, stood May.
Josephine put her arms around her, hugging and kissing her, whereupon she burst into tears; she tried to check them when Donald, white and shaking, appeared upon the scene, anxiety on her account having made him impervious to pain for the time being. ”

“ Dr. Farrant said, "you are a true soldier's daughter, I see; you are going to show yourself a brave girl!"
"Will father die?" Josephine questioned; "oh, do you think he will die?"
"Oh, my dear, don't suggest it!" sobbed Miss Basset; "oh, no, no, no!"
Josephine paid no heed to her aunt. All her attention was given to Dr. Farrant.
"I will tell you all we know," he said; "do not fear that I will keep anything back. It was reported in an evening paper yesterday that your father was wounded, and Mr. Basset asked me to ascertain for him if the report was correct. ”

“ There were twenty—mostly women and children; they had lost everything except the clothes they were wearing, so I was told."
"Oh, how sad!" cried May pitifully.
"It must be terrible to be homeless," remarked Miss Basset; "heart-breaking, I call it."
Mr. Basset agreed. "Yet most of them appeared cheerful," he said; "that seemed marvellous to me."
"They know they've not been to blame in anyway, and that makes them brave, don't you think?" suggested Josephine. "I heard a lot about the Belgians in Exeter—you know I spent last night there with Mrs. Ford; her friends are busy making clothes for them. ”

“ Bring your young folks to see them, they will help cheer them up."
"This is our great niece from India," Miss Basset said, indicating Josephine; "she only arrived yesterday. Her father's regiment has been ordered to the front, and she is going to remain with us till the war is over. Oh, this terrible war!" The old lady shuddered.
"Yes, it is indeed a terrible war," Dr. Farrant agreed; "but we can face it bravely, knowing we're fighting for truth, and honour, and right against might. Ah, your pony's in a hurry to be off, I see!" ”

“ The little girls got out and walked the hill, arriving at the top as soon as the carriage. There a halt was made for a few minutes so that Josephine should look at the view—a beautifully wooded valley in the midst of which lay the town.
"This is Tor Hill," said Miss Basset, "and that thatched house nearly at the foot of the hill is the blacksmith's—between that and the town there is only one other dwelling—Vine Cottage—"
"Oh, such a funny old woman lives there, Josephine!" May interposed; "she's called Mrs. Rumbelow, and she's bent almost two-double! She lives quite by herself, I believe." ”

“ Basset, as, having read his nephew's letter, he folded it carefully, placed it in its envelope, and returned it to his sister. "Well, I suppose having Josephine here will not make much difference anyway, Ann?"
"I don't know about that," Miss Basset answered doubtfully; "it will depend upon what she is like, of course. An Indian-born child, accustomed to native servants, may not settle down comfortably in an English home. Dear me, I was saying only yesterday that we had no relative at the front, little thinking how soon our nearest and dearest would be there! Oh, dear me!" ”

“ Captain Basset replied, kissing her.
"Oh, Paul, you can say that?" she whispered brokenly, the ever-ready tears filling her eyes.
"Yes, and feel it, too," he answered her, "so there's no need to cry. I thought you'd be so happy to-night."
"So I am, so I am! You mustn't mind my crying—I can't help it!"
With an effort the old lady overcame her emotion, and released her nephew from her embrace. Then May and Donald shook hands with him; after which Warner came forward, and respectfully but firmly said his master must go straight to his own room and rest after his journey. ”

“ There had been some talk of Miss Basset taking her little niece to London to see Captain Basset; but the old lady had become so nervous at the thought of zeppelins that the idea had been dropped.
Soon after Mr. Basset's return from France Mrs. Ford had spent a week-end at the Glen. Her visit had been not only a great pleasure to Josephine, but had cheered her wonderfully.
"You must keep a brave heart, my dear," she had said, "for your father will need help and encouragement. A heavy cross has been laid upon him, but many a cross brings a blessing with it, remember." ”

“ She has been taught to be fearless. I think her father must be a very fine character, judging from what she has told me of him—she likes nothing better than to talk of him, I find."
"You are evidently pleased with your new pupil," remarked Mrs. Cummings. "How does she get on with the Raes?"
"She and May are good friends, but I am not sure that Donald altogether likes her. She is too outspoken to please him, I fancy. You know he has been accustomed to tyrannize over his sister, and Josephine shows her disapproval of that very plainly. ”

“ Josephine and Uncle John are going to meet him at the railway station! It's all arranged. His new servant—Warner—is coming with him. Warner is accustomed to look after blind people, for he used to be an attendant in a blind institution."
Josephine winced. She was not yet able to think of her father as sightless without suffering a pang of pain. Sudden tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away, and bit her quivering lip.
"He is going to teach Captain Basset to read Braille," May continued, "and, oh, isn't it wonderful, Josephine has actually had a few lines from her father himself?" ”