It was a long telegram, and it took some seconds to read; but he did not look up till he had mastered it.
"Good-bye, sweetheart, good-bye," so ran the message--"It is no red-letter day for me, but I wish you joy with all my heart.

Spare a thought now and then for the good old times and the boy you left behind you .-- Your loving Jerry." Amid a buzz of congratulation, Piet Cradock handed the missive back to his bride with a simple "Thank you!" that revealed nothing whatever of what was in his mind.
She took it, without looking at him, with nervous promptitude, and the incident passed.
The guests were many, and Nan's attention was very fully occupied.

No casual observer, seeing her smiling face, would have suspected the turmoil of doubt that underlay her serenity.
Only Mona, her favourite sister, had the smallest inkling of it, but even Mona was not in Nan's confidence just then.

No intimate word of any sort passed between them up in the old bedroom that they had shared all their lives during the fleeting half-hour that Nan spent preparing for her journey.

They could neither of them bear to speak of the coming separation, and that embodied everything.
The only allusion that Nan made to it was as she passed out of the room with her arm round her sister's shoulders, and whispered: "Don't sleep by yourself to-night, darling.