My brother was in his regiment." "The dear old regiment!" exclaimed Miss Crofton.
Enid Crofton smiled a little to herself.

It amused her to see that these two old things--for so she described them to herself--had so quickly become friends.

"The Regiment!" How sick she had got of those two words during her second married life! She was sorry that Alice, whom she liked, should be so queerly like Cecil.

Even their voices were alike, and she had uttered the two words with that peculiar intonation her husband always used when speaking of any of his old comrades-in-arms.
All the same Miss Pendarth's sudden appearance had been a godsend.

Enid hated going back to the dreadful time of her husband's death.
And then, when everything seemed going so pleasantly, and when Enid Crofton was still feeling a glow of joy at the thought of the cheque for L100, one of those things happened which seem sometimes to occur in life as if to remind us poor mortals that Fate is ever crouching round the corner, ready to spring.