The Spectator., 1915-04-16

T wonder if this shirt waist will do for tomorrow"
 "Oh, yes; l wouldn't put on a fresh one till we're there. My, it's good to get those shoes off Patent leather draws my feet so."
 Tan shoes are easier for travelling. Oh. do you like those lace-front cor. sets? I've been wanting to try them. | they say they're" The rest was lost in the trundling of baggage outside.
 Huh, just getting interesting" grinned Warren. "What're those two females over here alone for, anyway" T think one is a correspondent for some paper whispered Helen. Don't you remember her, the one who was always writing on deck?'
 "Oh, that! Well, it'll take more'n a lace front to make her" Hush, dear, they'll hear you."
 Now what else have you to do?" de- manded Warren.
 Just to fix my hair-but I don't need the light for that" She switched off the light and raised the window at the foot of her berth The long platform was now cleared of trunks. The cold, white arc globes flickered ghostly along the prison-like station. The familiar English signs of soap, tea and junket seemed frivolous ly out of place against the grim stone walls.
 Then without a sound of bell or whistle, with almost a sinister silence, the train slipped out into the dark ness.
 The outskirts of Liverpool, with the streets stony, treeless, and poor ly lit, looked inexpressibly dreary. There were endless rows of the mo- notonous, low brick houses, all dark now except for a faint glimmer from an occasional window
 Vaguely depressed by the scene, with a whispered Good night, dear" Helen reached out across the narrow aisle.
 Good night" briefly, pushing away her hand.
 Now let's get what sleep we can"
 A silence of several moments then Helen crept out of bed and bent over him with a wistful:
 Dear. I cant go to sleep without telling you good night right"
 AS she stopped to kiss him, her hand unconsciously slipped under his pillow and touched something cold and steely. With frightened cry she drew back.
 "Oh. oh. Why. Warren. that isn't"
 Well. what if it is? What're you fumbling under my pillow for?"
 ''It-it isn't loaded?" breathlessly.
 What use would it be if it wasn't?"
 But, dear, you don't think"
 Think it's just as well to have one. Lot of sneak thieves at time like this. Now you go to sleep and stop prowling around"
 Helen crept back into her berth, but the touch of the revolver had chilled her. There was something terrify- ing in that cold steel. With a rush it brought back all her breeding thoughts of the war.
 They were beyond the city now, speeding through the sweet-smelling English country. Raising her pill low, she gazed out on the peaceful farm lands. Here and there were groups of cows sleeping or grazing in the moonlight
 It was all so quietly peaceful that it was hard to think of the war zone hnf thnCn Rn1pian battlefields had few months ago been as serenely quiet as this. Perhaps many of the battles had been fought at night under just such a calm, pale moon.
 The thought of the killed-and wound ed Helen resolutely put from her. All her mental anguish over the suffering in this war would not alleviate single pang, and she was schooling herself not to think. Just before they sailed she had sent check to the Red Cross. That was expressing her sympathy in the only way that could help.
 Determinedly she now turned her thoughts to London. They would be there in the morning. What condi- tions would they find? The hotels. restaurants, music halls-all the places she had loved on her first trip-how many of those would be closed?
 Whatever the hardships or incon- veniences of the next few weeks. there was something thrillingly exciting about being so near the heart of things.
 The spirit of adventure was always strong within Helen. and now she looked forward to their arrival in Lon don with a glow of eager expectancY.