Oh not George--not _George_--never! The agony ran through her, and her fingers gripped the turf beside her.

Then it passed, and she was silently proud that she had been able to hide it.

But it had left her pale and restless.

She sprang up, and they went along the high path leading to Grasmere and Langdale.
Presently at the top of the little neck which separates Rydal from Grasmere they came upon an odd cavalcade.

In front walked an elderly lady, with a huge open bag slung round her, in which she carried an amazing load of the sphagnum moss that English and Scotch women were gathering at that moment all over the English and Scotch mountains for the surgical purposes of the war.