Mrs.McGillicuddy, ruddy and beaming, towered over the little Sergeant.
Colonel Fortescue and Anita stood on the lowest of the stone steps.
Presently, a motor whirled up and Beverley stepped out, looking so handsome in his well-fitting civilian clothes, with his new straw hat, in which he felt slightly queer.

The Colonel wrung his hand saying: "Boy! Boy! How glad we are to have you once more!" Anita covered Beverley's face with kisses, but Mrs.Fortescue stood like a queen, smiling and gracious, to receive her boy's reverence.

Beverley caught her in his strong young grasp; she looked so young, so lovely, so full of radiant life, that she seemed like an older Anita.

Then Mrs.
Fortescue raised the After-Clap and put him in Beverley's arms.
Accustomed to much adulation, the After-Clap was, in general, coolly supercilious to strangers, but he seemed much pleased with Beverley's appearance, and called him "Bruvver," as he had called Broussard, who had been long since forgotten by the After-Clap.
"What a jolly little rascal!" cried Beverley, whose experience with small children was nil.
The After-Clap returned the compliment, by rapturously hugging Beverley.
In fact, they became such chums on the spot that much difficulty was experienced in persuading the After-Clap to go to bed when Mrs.
McGillicuddy was ready for him.
There was a joyous dinner.

Beverley, like Colonel Fortescue, was surprised to find that Anita was grown up, like other girls of eighteen.
Also, that his father was almost as young and handsome as his mother.
"I say, Colonel," said Beverley, "you're the handsomest Colonel in the army." The Colonel smiled.
"For your age, that is." The Colonel scowled.
"Your father's touchy about his age," Mrs.Fortescue explained, "and so am I, so please, Beverley, keep away from the unpleasant subject." Beverley Fortescue had three months' leave before taking up his duties as an officer at the post and it was a halcyon time at the Commandant's house.