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angles of the entrenched posi-
tion, and indeed it was Jock
Shirres and his star-shells that
showed up the hordes of Af-
ghans swarming to the attack.
Then at Maiwand, another-
poor "Bin" Osborne-fell fight-
ing and died with his major,
George Blackwood, in the Horse
Artillery. Later, in Egypt, one
was commended for fighting
his guns in an exposed position,
and another was badly wounded
at Tel-el-Kebir.
And so on,
up the Nile with Kitchener,
and up and down the North-
West Frontier, in the 'nineties,
and in South Africa defending
Ladysmith, and in pursuit of
De Wet. So also in China at
the relief of the Legations.
When the Great War broke
out many had already died
(poor Shirres was drowned, out
fishing); but the survivors,
including those who had re-
tired, came back to the old
trumpet-calls, and served both
overseas and at home. One
was in command in Ireland in
the 1916 rebellion. The motto
of the two great regiments of
Artillery and Engineers is,
"Ubique quo fas et gloria
ducunt," and the "Old Term "
lived up to it.

Now that all the survivors have "returned swords," it may be permissible to turn in one's saddle and look back over the intervening years. The history of various members of the Old Term " has been the history of the British Army, more or less, from 1874 to 1918. In the first campaign that took place, the Afghan War, 1878-80, they were fully engaged. At the opening of the war, one of the "Old Term was with a company There were no great comof sappers in the advanced- manders in it like Kitchener, guard at the attack of Ali who was at Woolwich a short Musjid; two others were serv- time before us; nor Sir James ing guns at the battle of the Grierson, who came shortly Peiwar Kotal. When Lord after. But if the general averRoberts stood at bay at Sher- age is taken, it may be fairly pur in the dark winter days said that the Old Term " of 1879, two of the " Old Term was hard to beat. For when were at each of the vulnerable his present Majesty came to

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VOL. CCXV.-NO. MCCCI.

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66

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Aldershot

Command (the

writer). There may have been some others in India. One of the "Old Term" became a Member of the Army Council, two were Directors of Artillery, two Directors of Fortifications and Works. Thus four of the "Old Term" reached the highest posts open to them in the Artillery and Engineers; five received the honour of Knighthood; and the number of Companions is too numerous to ascertain.

the throne they held the follow-
ing important appointments,
all at one and the same time:
Master-General of the Ord-
nance (Hadden); Director-Gen-
eral of Territorials (Bethune);
G.O.C. Scottish Coast Defences
(Friend); Director of Fortifica-
tions and Works (Rainsford -
Hannay); Director of Artillery
(Blewitt); A.A.G. Royal Ar-
tillery (Brunker); Comman-
dant Royal Military Academy
(Cowan); G.O.C., R.A., Eastern
Command (Tylden); Chief En-
gineer, Southern Command
(Penrose); and Chief Engineer, good.

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So the "Old Term made

FROM TWO POINTS OF VIEW.

PART I. HIS FRIEND'S WIFE.

CHAPTER I. OUR FIRST MEETING.

I HAD not the least idea who they were as they sat in the railway-carriage with me.

The man was tall, fair, and good-looking. Perfectly silent, he gazed through the window, as if the passing country in its autumn tints and mistiness fascinated his eyes.

The child, who was evidently his own, paid no attention to him whatever. Neither did she observe anything outside the window, but fixed all her regard on my luggage in the rack overhead, and finally on my person. She began with my boots, and by the time her travelling gaze had mounted to my head, I was constrained to divert her steady stare by offering her a picture - paper. She seized it without thanks, and removed herself to the furthest window-seat, where she turned over the leaves, perusing the letter - print with frowning intentness, but neglecting the pictures.

I remember that I thought this odd at the time in a child of her years. It was some while later I happened to discover that she could not read a line. But it was thoroughly characteristic of Miss Lina Harding not to allow herself to be placed at a disadvantage by admitting this disability to a stranger.

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"Well, I know," said Trent, dropping her hand, and leading the way out to the back of the station, where his motor was waiting.

We all got in, and rolled away down a long level road, with full-grown stately beeches on both sides of it, which arched overhead in that solemn architectural fashion that such trees have, letting rifts and triangles of turquoise-blue sky show through their branches, and sending every now and then a drift of little gold-brown leaves to float lightly, fantastically, down to their graves. This road, I thought, might lead to

"I'm glad you drive an

Overland car and not a Ford," anceship. And we all went indoors.

said the high voice of the child behind me. "If there is a car I specially despise

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"It must be a Ford, for that's the only one you know," said her father.

The voice of Lina was not uplifted again, and we turned in at a brick-built gateway and up a short drive to the steps of an old Queen Anne house of dark-red brick, with white windows, and slender chimneys, actually beautiful. It was not a very large or imposing house, but its simple proportions and fitness gave it a dignity that was wonderfully satisfying.

Out on the steps stood a figure in white, waiting for us. It was David's wife, Hilda Trent. I had known her for eight years—that is, ever since they were married; and I had stayed with them every year, and never found her two years the same. "Come in-come in, everybody," she cried. "Child, let me help you out! Now, let me look at you. Look at me, dear!" and she put her arms round Lina.

I happened to be looking at Lina's father, who was steadily gazing at David's wife. He had turned very pale, and as Hilda's arms closed round the child he winced.

Now this is distinctly odd, I thought. Is it possible she is an old flame of his

But she lifted her head and shook hands with him, without a sign of old acquaint

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we

were at Christ Church. He's the youngest son of a long west-country family, rich once, poor now. Sons all over the earth in different Colonies. I only know this one, from Canada. Sure you don't remember him at Oxford ? "

"No more than he remembers me apparently. But I have so little memory for people, and you have so little forgetfulness. What is he doing in Canada ? "

"He was ranching before the war, and since then he has taken up something in Vancouver Island. I'm not sure if it is a farm, or fruit. We'll hear about it this evening. About that childHe stopped.

"Yes; what about her?" "She's a pretty child, don't you think?

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"Oh, pretty enough. I'm not desperately fond of children. Every one puts a fictitious value on them nowadays. Result of the war, I imagine. It's odd how even the youngest men and women all talk like child-fanciers. They compare notes about their nephews and nieces."

"We haven't any nephews and nieces," David Trent remarked.

His cheerful voice had sud

denly changed. to see why, but he was gone.

I looked up intruding, and-you did tell Hawkins she was to send her down to the dining-room for dessert; didn't you?"

When I came downstairs before dinner the fair man Harding and Hilda Trent were talking earnestly together. He looked nervous and ill at ease, and she was evidently excited. I did not think much of that, for it was Hilda's way to excite herself over things she really cared very little about. But why did they stop their talk and move apart? I was vaguely wondering over it when a darkhaired girl with a slim figure, dressed in blue, came in, and going straight over to Harding said to him

"I will show you where Lina's room is if you will come up with me now. I think she would like to say good-night to you."

He went at once, and the girl came back without him, half-smiling, and sat down by Hilda.

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"Of course.'

David came in, and we all went to dinner, and in due course appeared Miss Lina Patricia Harding in white muslin and a black temper, following the meringues and pastry-puffs. She took a seat beside Hilda, but kept a smouldering eye upon her father, who never turned his head towards her, but continued in his level voice to explain to the inquiring Joey that Vancouver is not in Vancouver Island, nor is Victoria in British Columbia.

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Joey could not have been long from school, but she had more geography than a hedge-sparrow. Isn't that a bird that never migrates? I think so. Well, in any case she had no more geography than I have natural history. But she was a pleasing thing to look upon, for though she wasn't pretty she was very clean finished. Her eyebrows had a delicate line of their own, rather low over the eyes, which were dark and steady, with thick lashes. Her nose was anyhow, but her chin was perfect, with a dimple in the centre of it, and she had small lovely ears, placed high and flat against the head. One seldom sees these ears, and never with a face that lacks breeding. Hilda Trent looked blunt and unfinished beside her, and I had been accus

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