Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-05-30
Continued From Yesterdays starr
CHAPTER VII.

III - ENNIS S1ANEOFE IlQSGCcO
about after breakfast until his
mother looked up from hel
~ depressing study of the casualty
{ lists in the Times. 1t was q
! wonderful morning in June, 1917, and
from the breakfast room she could see
the red cliffs above Oddicombe Beach
and long sereies of headlandS beyond
until the coastline was lost in the
morning haze. But she could never
forget that beyond this peace was the
intending, destructive rumble Of guns
And she could never leave the breakfast
| table until a careful study of the
! casualty lists had assured her that men
and boys she knew had been granted
one more days respite. AT any rate
she had Dennis safe in England for
three more days, but she hated the war
with an intense hatred, almost aston
ishing in SO calm and beautiful a
1 woman, for If it had not taken her only
son away from her, it was changing
him as relentlesSly as fire will TWIST
and distort bars of metal.
We'll, Den, old boy, what is it?" she
asked.
Nothing much. It's only 1 was
thinking I might trot over to Barford
sorts, you see, and it might be rather
tun to play in it. They'll have fearful
Job to scrape up team. But, of course,
leaves short, and if you or Dad had
planned anything particular L mean,
it doesn't really matter. 1 could get
back the day after tomorrow, and have
a last day here"
Leaves short! Leaves short! Dear
God, how short it was! She looked
forward to it so anxiously, and the
months went by so slowly. Sometimes
hot inl1
wounded and so come home before the
appointed time. Then, quickly, she
prayed that his body might come
through it all unscathed, even though
she had to wait years before his next
leave.
But he was nervous, and jumpy, and
irritable. His mind and soul were not
unscathed. Perhaps visit to Barford
would do him good. There were still
boys there whom he knew-Jimmy
Raleigh, for example-and the atmos-
phere of the place ought to be restful.
She would have to let him go.
Its an excellent idea, Den," she de-
clared. "It will do you world of good
to get a decent game Of cricket again.
I'll talk to your father about it. He'll
be sorry not to see more of you, as I
am, but he'll understand" Charles
must not be allowed to object, or to
show too clearly how much they re-
GREETED each of these hours of leave
that was stolen from them. THAT will
be quite all right. You'll be pretty use
full to the Old Boys team, too. Score
a century"
When Dennis had gone to the post
office to telegraph to Barford, his
mother stood on the step that led down
from the French windows Of the morn
ing room to the little strip of lawn that
had not been dug up for potatoes. She
paid an absurd amount of attention to
this one patch of turf. After it had
been newly mown and rolled glimpse
of it, when she was busting the room,
would remind her of county cricket
matches when Dennis was little boy;
a little grandstand with flower boxes
full Of geraniunS; wide circle of
wooden benches crowded with men with
field glasses and women with long,
houncy dresses, big fiat hats and sun
hannels moving purposefully about the
field; Dennis running up to her at the
end of the tea interval bubbling over
with excitement because he'd got G. B.
Fry'S autograph. Then she'd always
had, In the back of her mind, the
knowledge that so soon he'd be going
back to school and she'd be going back
to India. Now she stayed at home, and
waited, while he went back once more
to the front. Looking at that strip of
turf this morning she seemed to see an
Old Boys team coming out to field
some on stretchers or crutches, one
cropping blindly, some with nervous tics,
some with drawn, tired faces and eyes
glazed with fatigue. An Old Boys teaml
She laughed bitterly to herself, told her
self not to be fool, and went of with
determined cheerfulnes to explain to
her husband how much good it might
do Dennis to spend few hours at Bar
ford.
It was funny, Stanhope reflected,
how small everything looked now.
In the little town-which had been
so attractive because It was out of
bounds and could only be visited on
very special occasions, unless you were
a nlonitor-he came across the first
boy wearing the Barford cap, a boy
so small that he would hardly have
looked out of place in q perambulator
The distance between the town and
the school had shrunk from good
school and the school chapel had be-
come relatively unimportant buildings
which no longer rivaled the Houses Of
Parliament and Westminster Abbey. It
all felt as though he were visiting a
Lilliputian city OF which he had once,
before growing to his present stature,
been q citizen.
He left his motor bicycle outside the
porters lodge, after a few words Of
explanation to a porter he had never
seen before, and walked up the drive.
Fellows were just coming out Of morning
school, and he scanned their faces
anXiously in search of some one he
knew. They on their part tried hard
to be perfect little gentlemen and not
to stare, but they could not resist the
temptation to look round as soon as
he had passed.
Hes a captain. must be an Old
Boy. Look, he's got the Military
Cross. IL bet you it is... Yes, white
and purple. BY Jove, the Military
Gross! That's the next thing to the
" G. 80. No, it isn't. Yes, it is. ~. +.
, OF course, know, because my brothers
a regular :. believe it's Stanhope.
saw his photo in the o. B. Magazine and
he got the Military Cross. That's it..
bet it's old Stanhope. good old
/ Stanhopel"
In front of the main tower Dennis
Stanhope stopped for moment to look
about him. He had not been tremen'
dously happy at school. There had beer
! great satisfaction when he had won his
! cap, or played particularly well in q
| match, but there had also been revoltS
| agaipst a system which compelled yoy
! to do, almost to think, exactly the
same as every one else And yet the
| things that had worried him all seemed
so unimportant now. How would it bt
1