Part 180

Moving along the familiar path in the garden, they presently discovered Halkett seated alone in the little arbor, with Ariadne dozing on his lap.

"We've come to dine with you, old fellow!" said Warner. "--Philippa and you and I and Ariadne again. Does the idea appeal to you?"

"Immensely!" He had saluted Philippa's hand and had offered her the cat, which she took to her breast, burying her face in the soft fur.

"Darling," she murmured, "it is so nice to have you again! One needs all one's old friends in days like these."

They returned to the house, Philippa walking between the two men, caressing Ariadne, who acknowledged the endearments with her usual enthusiasm.

Dinner was all ready for them in the little room by the bar: a saucer was set beside Philippa's chair for Ariadne; Linette went upstairs to summon Sister Eila, and returned with word that she would be down after a while, and that dinner was not to wait for her.

Warner said to Halkett:

"How did you feel when you were falling, old chap?"

"Not very comfortable," returned the other, smiling.

"You thought it was all up with you?"

"On the contrary, I realized it was all down."

Philippa smiled faintly.

"You didn't expect to come out alive?" inquired Warner.

"I didn't think of that. Bolton, my pilot, said: 'I'm trying to make the river, sir.' I was attempting to find out how badly we were damaged. It seemed an age; but we both were busy."

"You probably did some very serious thinking, too."

Halkett nodded. He remembered that part vividly--the thinking part. He recollected perfectly where his thoughts were concentrated as he came fluttering down out of the sky. But on whom they were centered he never would tell as long as he lived.

Sister Eila came in.

Halkett placed her; she and Philippa exchanged faint smiles; then the two men resumed their seats.

"Monsieur Bolton is now asleep," she said, speaking to Halkett and looking at her plate. "Tomorrow we shall move him to the east wing of the Chateau. We shall have many wounded tomorrow, I believe."

"Yes. Sister Felicite told me," said Warner. He looked at her for a moment. "Are you well, Sister Eila?"

"Why, yes; I am perfectly well."

"You look very pale. Do you ever find time to sleep?"

"Sufficiently, thank you," she replied, smiling. "You know we are very tough, we Sisters of Charity. There is a saying that nothing but death can kill a Grey Sister."

Warner laughed, Halkett forced a smile.

"I think," added Sister Eila, "that British airmen ought to be included in that proverb. Don't you, Mr. Halkett?"

"Nothing can kill me," he said. "I'm even wondering whether old man Death could do the job."

Philippa turned to Warner:

"Isn't the conversation becoming a trifle grim for our reunion?"