The Rough Road Part 57

"Dear old Phineas? Has he come through? I've not had time to ask whether you've heard anything about him."

"Yes, he's flourishing. He wrote to me. I've seen him."

"Praise the Lord!" cried Doggie. "My dear, there's no one on earth, save you, whom I should so much love to see as Phineas. If he's there, fetch him along."

Peggy nodded and smiled mysteriously and went away down the ward. And Doggie thought: "Thank G.o.d, Peggy has the strength to face the world--and thank G.o.d Phineas has come through." He closed his eyes, feeling rather tired, thinking of Phineas. Of his last words as he pa.s.sed him stretcher-borne in the trench. Of the devotion of the man.

Of his future. Well, never mind his future. In all his vague post-war schemes for reorganization of the social system, Phineas had his place. No further need for dear old Phineas to stand in light green and gold outside a picture palace. He had thought it out long ago, although he had never said a word to Phineas. Now he could set the poor chap's mind at rest for ever.

He looked round contentedly, and saw Peggy and a companion coming down the ward, together. But it was not Phineas. It was a girl in black.

He raised himself, forgetful of exquisite pain, on his right elbow, and stared in a thrill of amazement.

And Jeanne came to him, and there were no longer ghosts behind her eyes, for they shone like stars.