The friends set out to stroll homewards through the long May evening, talking of the hideous Irish news--how incredible amid the young splendour of the Westmorland May!--or of the progress of the war.
Meanwhile Bridget Cookson was walking to meet them from the Rydal end of the Lake. She was accompanied by a Manchester friend, a young doctor, Howson by name, who had known the sisters before Nelly's marriage. He had come to Ambleside in charge of a patient that morning, and was going back on the morrow, and then to France. Bridget had stumbled on him in Ambleside, and finding he had a free evening had invited him to come and sup with them. And a vivid recollection of Nelly Cookson as a girl had induced him to accept. He had been present indeed at the Sarratt wedding, and could never forget Nelly as a bride, the jessamine wreath above her dark eyes, and all the exquisite shapeliness of her slight form, in the white childish dress of fine Indian muslin, which seemed to him the prettiest bridal garment he had ever seen. And now--poor little soul!
'She says so. But she has put on mourning at last--a few weeks ago.'
'People do turn up, you know,' said the doctor musing. 'There have been some wonderful stories.'
'They don't turn up now,' said Bridget positively--'now that the enquiries are done properly.'
'Oh, the Germans are pretty casual--and the hospital returns are far from complete, I hear. However the probabilities, no doubt, are all on the side of death.'
'The War Office are certain of it,' said Bridget with emphasis. 'But it's no good trying to persuade her. I don't try.'
'No, why should you? Poor thing! Well, I'm off to X---- next week,' said the young man. 'I shall keep my eyes open there, in case anything about him should turn up.'
Bridget frowned slightly, and her face flushed.
'Should you know him again, if you saw him?' she asked, abruptly.
'I think so,' said the doctor with slight hesitation, 'I remember him very well at the wedding. Tall and slight?--not handsome exactly, but a good-looking gentlemanly chap? Oh yes, I remember him. But of course, to be alive now, if by some miraculous chance he were alive, and not to have let you know--why he must have had some brain mischief--paralysis--or----'