WHERE YOUR 
 HEART IS 
 
 BEATRICE HARRADEN
 

 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 BY 
 
 BEATRICE HARRADEN 
 
 Author of "Ships That Pass in the Night," "The 
 Scholar's Daughter," etc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 1918
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1918 
 BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC.
 
 PART I
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 JAMES THORNTON, an archaeologist, of Lalling- 
 ton, Yorkshire, had died leaving a few thousand 
 pounds in safe investments and, to the surprise of his 
 family, a collection of precious stones of unknown value. 
 Tamar Scott, of Dean Street, Soho, dealer in precious 
 stones and antique jewellery, known to her friends and 
 clients generally as T. Scott, was deputed by Christo- 
 pher Bramfield, a diamond merchant of Hatton Garden 
 and a Licensed Valuer, to value the collection. She 
 arrived for this purpose at Lallington Station on an 
 afternoon in late October in the year 1914. 
 
 She learnt to her disgust that she would have to 
 mount a long and steep hill to get to the village, and 
 that even then she would not have reached the Thorn- 
 tons' house, which stood at the extreme top, near a little 
 spinney at the end of the village, and almost on the edge 
 of the moor. Tamar Scott had always hated hills, and 
 considered that they were spiteful manifestations of 
 Nature. When she heard that the little yellow omni- 
 bus would probably come down to meet the next train, 
 she elected to wait, and strolled into the railway hotel, 
 where an exceedingly pleasant landlady received her 
 and installed her in the ingle-nook of the comfortable 
 hall. She was waited on by one of the young daughters 
 of the house, whose gay friendliness prevented her from 
 being cross at the delay.
 
 4 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Marton Grange is 'a fine old house," the girl said, 
 as she brought the tea, together with some tempting- 
 looking cakes. " It has a beautiful oak staircase and 
 a ghost, a monk who comes and looks in at the library 
 window." 
 
 " Indeed," said Tamar Scott. " Have you ever seen 
 him?" 
 
 " No," she answered, " but our funny old man, Tim, 
 who does the coals and boots here, has seen him once. 
 And he said that his hair stood on end and never came 
 down for three whole days. I think mine wouldn't come 
 down for three whole years ! " 
 
 Tamar laughed. 
 
 " Oh, it's splendid up there, you know," the girl con- 
 tinued. " I often wish we lived on the moor. There's 
 such a view and such a wind. I do love the wind. Still, 
 I make nothing of dashing up there when I've time. 
 No time now, since Father joined up, and all the men 
 too. Father is in India just at present. We heard 
 from him yesterday." 
 
 " Did you? " said T. Scott, with some attempt at 
 human interest. It was a matter of entire indifference 
 to her whether Father were in India or torpedoed and 
 at the bottom of the sea, but the young girl's bright 
 manner and winning trustfulness made a very definite 
 claim on a kindly response. 
 
 So she added, somewhat to her own surprise: 
 
 " You must be very thankful that so far he's safe." 
 
 " Rather," the girl said, her face lighting up. 
 " Father's top-hole. I don't know whatever we should 
 do if we lost him. Well, I must be off. I've got to see 
 after the cows. One of them, a perfectly darling little 
 Alderney, is so obstinate, she will never come in for any
 
 5 
 
 one but me. If you want anything, please ring, and 
 Mother will look after you. If you do change your 
 mind and don't wait for the yellow omnibus, you can't 
 mistake the way. You turn to the right, cross the 
 bridge, have a look at the river, and then begin to climb. 
 When you get to the blacksmith's, rest a bit. That's 
 what Mother always does. I make her." 
 
 Tamar Scott gave a friendly little nod as the girl 
 darted away with a song on her lips. Something in 
 the child's youthfulness and energy refreshed and stimu- 
 lated her. She began to feel that she could mount that 
 hateful hill after all. 
 
 " That's a brisk little girl of yours," she remarked, 
 when Mrs. Passmore appeared on the scene again. 
 
 The mother smiled with the pride of love. 
 
 " You'd never believe how sensible and practical she 
 is," she said. " And yet a real child at the same time. 
 We could not run this house without her. It is her 
 great ambition to show her father when he returns 
 from the war, that we have taken every care of the 
 business." 
 
 Then, after she had received payment for the tea and 
 arranged to reserve a bedroom for Tamar Scott for 
 the night, she said : 
 
 " You are going to visit Marton Grange, I hear? " 
 
 Tamar nodded rather rigidly. 
 
 " There's a curious story going about the village that 
 Mr. Thornton has left a valuable jewel collection, hid- 
 den in secret places," Mrs. Passmore continued. " But 
 perhaps it is only gossip. He was a queer gentleman, 
 though, and only interested in ancient things. But as 
 for jewels, I can't help thinking that pretty little Miss 
 Marion, her father's favourite, would have coaxed some
 
 6 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 of them out of him soon enough, if there had been any. 
 I never saw so much as one little seed-pearl on her 
 never once. No, I think it's just gossip and nothing 
 more." 
 
 " Perhaps it is," said Tamar glacially, for she in- 
 variably kept her own counsel, and no human being had 
 ever succeeded by any artifice, subtle or shallow, in 
 worming out from her the reason of her arrival on a 
 scene, or the nature of her business when once there. 
 
 But Mrs. Passmore's remarks gave her food for re- 
 flection. She had received a vague hint from Christo- 
 pher Bramfield that Mr. Thornton's collection of pre- 
 cious stones was probably valuable, but certainly there 
 had been no suggestion of secrecy. It was the idea of 
 secrecy which arrested her. If, in addition to having 
 collected them, he had really maintained an entire 
 silence about them broken only by death, then he had 
 evidently been an enthusiast of enthusiasts, a slave, held 
 fast, enchained by a passion of adoration which no one 
 and nothing could ever have undermined. She could 
 understand both his passion and his secrecy, for she 
 had inherited from her mother a passionate love for 
 precious stones, and more than a touch of secret rap- 
 ture. 
 
 The circumstances, therefore, became doubly allur- 
 ing. She decided not to wait for that yellow omnibus, 
 but to speed on her way, hill or no hill. 
 
 Before she started off she asked for a brush, and 
 very carefully brushed her soft, dark, chestnut-brown 
 coat and skirt, which, together with a round toque to 
 match, was her invariable out-door dress. She was 
 particular about her appearance and exceedingly care- 
 ful of her clothes, chiefly for economy's sake, though,
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 7 
 
 being rich, she could have had as many as she chose. 
 In her shop she wore always a saxe-blue overall, the 
 exact colour of her silk waist. Jewels she never wore. 
 It was enough for her to know that her safe was full 
 of them. 
 
 She was a woman of about forty-two years of age, 
 of middle stature, not slight, not solid, dignified in bear- 
 ing, quiet, yet giving the impression of one having a 
 fund of fierceness in reserve, either for attack or re- 
 pulse. She was a Jewess, but not of pronounced type, 
 with dark hair and black eyes, and with a mouth fine 
 and sensitive but undoubtedly sullen. She was sullen, 
 too, sullen and sulky and uncommonly rude at times. 
 Long ago a man had said of her: 
 
 " T. Scott reserves all Tier manners -for minerals only. 
 No one else need apply" 
 
 But that was ten years before this record opens. 
 She had changed since then, grown less sulky, had more 
 kind impulses, and was certainly not so continuously 
 rude. And as she became kinder, her face, always 
 strangely interesting, took on a new expression which 
 at moments lent it an unspeakable beauty. 
 
 Even her sulkiness, too, had a charm all its own, and 
 the few who knew her well for she had always 
 ploughed a lonely furrow had forgiven her every- 
 thing and loved her in spite of her selfishness, her rude- 
 ness, the hard bargains she drove, and all her grasping 
 ways. She could charm strangers, too, when she 
 wished, and no one was her equal in repelling them 
 either. Young people she did not try to repel. Very 
 few came her way, but when they did put in an appear- 
 ance some chord in her was touched to tenderness. 
 Perhaps it was that she had always longed for young
 
 8 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 companionship, as so many lonely children have longed, 
 and when she was brought face to face with youthful- 
 ness the old yearning was translated into a graciousness 
 of spirit which showed her at her best. 
 
 As she went along, the pure, bracing air caught her 
 in its embrace and stimulated her to unwonted elasticity 
 of step. She glanced heavenwards and was arrested 
 by the beauty of the clouds, grey, pink, dove-coloured, 
 fringed with gold and red. At the bridge she paused 
 to watch the river Wharf e, swollen with recent rains, 
 and to feel the life-giving chill of its breath strike full 
 on her face. She crossed to the other side, and with 
 her eye followed its course until it hid itself from view. 
 She waited until a drove of sheep with an old shepherd 
 had passed her and a long, thin line of cows with an 
 escort in the shape of a tiny boy, and then she left the 
 bridge behind and began to climb to the village. 
 
 The hill was not so bad after all. She thought she 
 had made rather a fuss about nothing. And one could 
 always stop and look back at that shining river and 
 those emerald fields through which it threaded its way. 
 Tamar Scott was not fond of Nature, and seldom 
 deigned to notice it ; but it was borne in on her that here 
 were beautiful scenes which would not allow themselves 
 to be ignored. 
 
 Suddenly she heard the sound of a horse and cart, 
 and turning, saw a dog-cart and a cob brought to a 
 precipitate halt by the driver, a girl of about nineteen, 
 who called out in a most friendly voice : 
 
 " Is that Miss Scott? Oh, do say it is! I meant to 
 have met the train, but Tom didn't bring the horse back 
 from Henwick in time." 
 
 " Yes, I'm Miss Scott," Tamar answered, with one
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 9 
 
 of her half-sulky smiles which had so much charm in 
 them. 
 
 " Then do please get in, and I'll run you up to the 
 Grange in less than no time," the girl said. " I'm Ma- 
 rion Thornton. Sha'n't I just give Tom a wigging for 
 making me late! Steady, Robin; don't pretend you 
 mind being stopped in the middle of a hill. Are you all 
 right, Miss Scott? Hold fast whilst we swirl round. 
 Oh, nothing will happen. Nothing ever does happen 
 with Robin and me. We scamper up and we scamper 
 down, and if we were an aeroplane we'd loop the loop ! " 
 
 Tamar did not feel at all sure that nothing would 
 happen, even though Robin was evidently accustomed 
 to precipitancy, and in perfect harmony with his dash- 
 ing young mistress. She was not sorry when she was 
 landed safely outside Marton Grange, or rather outside 
 the spinney which led to it. Here steed and driver left 
 her and tore off in another direction at headlong pace. 
 Tamar, recovering her breath and her senses, found that 
 she was at the top of the little mountain village, with 
 its quaint stone houses with mullioned windows and 
 narrow cobbled streets, and the moors, stretching far 
 and wide, rolling over each other in stately billows, not 
 as mountains shutting out the space, but as the ocean 
 promising it, offering it, bestowing it without stint or 
 measure. 
 
 She stood for a few moments surveying the wonderful 
 expanse, and then glanced at another old shepherd, 
 resting in the tiny square, surrounded by his flock and 
 watched over by his dog, quiet and serene in outward 
 behaviour, but with eyes and brain ready for any emer- 
 gency. Children were playing round the old pump. A 
 herd of cattle was passing down from the moors. She
 
 10 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 thought with a smile of the contrast between this peace- 
 ful scene and Dean Street, Soho. Then she opened the 
 gate, went through the spinney and the garden, and 
 found herself in front of a rather long, one-storied 
 house, with an antique porch and old mullioned windows. 
 It had evidently been added to from time to time, but 
 presented no discords of line or form. A large yew tree 
 on the left-hand side gave perhaps a sombre impression 
 at first sight ; but there was nothing depressing about the 
 house itself, and although it stood alone, almost on the 
 edge of the moor, its position did not suggest loneliness 
 or dreariness, but rather a peaceful and comfortable 
 isolation within a convenient stone's throw of the village. 
 It was supposed originally to have been a monk's rest- 
 house belonging to an abbey. 
 
 It looked like a place of rest now. A fire in one of 
 the rooms cast a radiance on the window which served 
 as a signal of kindly welcome. Tamar pulled at the 
 long bell and was delighted when the door was opened, 
 not by a servant, but by Marion herself. 
 
 " I shouldn't have left you outside the spinney," she 
 said, " but that our old man was just going off, and I 
 wanted him to put the horse and cart away. I just 
 caught him. Please come in here, will you? I think 
 my brother Rupert is already here waiting for you, and 
 I'll call Mother and the others." 
 
 She led Tamar into the room where the fire-fairies 
 were dancing in joyous measure. 
 
 " Rupert," she said, " here's Miss Scott. I met her 
 half-way after all." 
 
 A young man rose none too nimbly from the arm- 
 chair and held out his hand to Tamar. 
 
 " How good of you to come at once, Miss Scott," he
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 11 
 
 said, with a charming little courteous smile. " We are 
 all frightfully anxious to know about the jewels. I've 
 been counting the hours since Mr. Bramfield wrote that 
 you were the expert who was coming counting the 
 hours and reading your splendid book on precious 
 stones which he sent us as an introduction. I didn't 
 know there was such a thing as an ' asteria,' but now I 
 could pass an examination on the subject! " 
 
 T. Scott's face flushed with pleasure. 
 
 " Oh, Bramfield sent that, did he? " she said. 
 
 " It's a ripping work," he added. " I tell you it has 
 made me forget about this wretched war." 
 
 " I am glad," Tamar said, and she glanced at him, 
 saw the signs of suffering on his thin face, noted that 
 his left arm was stiff and his left leg slightly disabled, 
 and knew that he had done his part at the front. 
 
 " Mr. Bramfield says there is nothing on earth that 
 you don't know about precious stones," he said. " And 
 I can quite believe it after reading some of those chap- 
 ters. How on earth do you know about it all the 
 romance and the lore and all that, as well as the min- 
 eralogical part? And you evidently care frightfully 
 don't you? That's what carries one along." 
 
 *' Yes, I care frightfully," Tamar repeated, with a 
 quiet smile. 
 
 " Look here," he said, " you must have some tea, and 
 I just wanted to say something to you before my mother 
 and the others come in. We arranged between us that 
 I should be the one to explain the situation to you alone. 
 That's why Marion has bolted." 
 
 " Don't ring for tea," she said. " I had some at the 
 hotel." 
 
 " All right, then," he said. " 111 fire away. First,
 
 12 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 I must tell 'you that my mother is rather upset. I'm 
 afraid she'll weep a lot and all that sort of thing. 
 You won't mind, will you? " 
 
 " No, I won't mind in the least," T. Scott answered. 
 " Tears make no impression on me." 
 
 " Rather boring, aren't they ? " Rupert said. " But 
 in this case there is a good deal of rather painful cause 
 for tears and wounded feelings, and we're all a bit 
 jarred, you know. You see, we'd no idea whatsoever 
 that my father owned this collection which you are 
 going to value. Not the slightest suspicion." 
 
 " Ah," thought Tamar, " then it is a secret collec- 
 tion, after all." 
 
 " So I wanted to warn you that the atmosphere is 
 likely to be well, perhaps a bit trying," Rupert 
 Thornton said. 
 
 Tamar nodded, to show that she understood. 
 
 " The circumstances have been rather peculiar," he 
 went on, with a slight laugh which had a touch of dep- 
 recation in it. " My father kept his precious stones in 
 boxes constructed to look like the volumes of a stuffy 
 old encyclopaedia which were lodged on the top shelves 
 of his book-case. Wasn't that queer of him? " 
 
 Tamar remained silent. She was deeply interested. 
 
 " He knew it was a perfectly safe hiding-place," Ru- 
 pert added. " He knew that no human being in this 
 house would ever have wanted to be bothering "after that 
 top shelf and any of those encyclopaedia volumes, which 
 had been there for years. He counted on that and 
 he scored. My mother has taken his secrecy very much 
 to heart." 
 
 " And have you also taken it to heart? " Tamar 
 asked.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 13 
 
 " Oh, well, as I told you, we're all a bit jarred," he 
 answered. " We evidently knew nothing about him. 
 He was a very reserved man, and none of us were very 
 intimate with him. We were scarcely ever allowed in 
 his library which he kept locked. He was a learned 
 archaeologist, and we thought he wasn't interested in 
 anything except mounds and barrows and stone imple- 
 ments and spear heads, etc. But I think he must have 
 had a jolly good sort of * off time ' in collecting these 
 stones and hiding them away from us all. Every one 
 has got to have some sort of a secret spree. I'm glad 
 he had his private innings. That's how I look on it 
 with one part of my brain and with the other part 
 I'd like to understand his motives. I ..." 
 
 He broke off suddenly, waved his hand as if in dis- 
 missal of the subject, and said cheerfully: 
 
 " Well, I mustn't worry you with all this. I'll go 
 and call my people and bring the jewels. We're very 
 excited about their value. There is no saying we're not 
 secrecy or no secrecy ! " 
 
 He disappeared from the room, leaving T. Scott in a 
 state of beatific curiosity to learn more. The story 
 appealed both to her sympathy and to her imagination. 
 She pictured to herself that lover of jewels, a stranger 
 to her, and yet of kindred nature, revelling secretly in 
 his secret treasures, adding to them one by one, perhaps 
 standing sometimes and gazing with silent rapture and 
 satisfaction at those innocent-looking " stuffy " vol- 
 umes which, in the presence of others, were only dis- 
 carded books of no value or interest, but which, in pri- 
 vate intercourse with himself, were sacred shrines of 
 silent worship. 
 
 Held by these thoughts and by the picture she had
 
 14 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 conjured up, she scarcely noticed that the door had 
 opened, and that the family were trooping into the 
 room. Rupert Thornton's voice roused her, when he 
 said: 
 
 " This is Miss Scott, Mother," 
 
 Tamar looked up and saw an elderly lady, and 
 Marion, also another girl, probably the elder daughter, 
 and another son, younger than Rupert, about eighteen 
 years of age, and very like Marion. 
 
 Tom, at least, was not weighed down by tragic memo- 
 ries. He was in the best of spirits, and was carrying 
 with elaborate and exaggerated care, savouring of mis- 
 chief, three volumes of the encyclopaedia, which with a 
 grimace he suddenly dumped down on the table. 
 
 " My mother, my sisters, and my brother," Rupert 
 said, in his courteous way. 
 
 T. Scott nodded to Marion, as if to an old acquaint- 
 ance, and bowed gravely to Mrs. Thornton and the 
 others. Mrs. Thornton had already produced her 
 handkerchief and was preparing to weep. 
 
 " Mother dear, I do beg of you to control yourself 
 for your own sake. It is so bad for you to give way," 
 her elder daughter said disapprovingly. 
 
 " Oh, shut up, Winifred," Tom said in a loud whis- 
 per. " Leave the Mater alone. We aren't all as self- 
 contained as you, thank goodness." 
 
 For a moment Tamar felt a little embarrassed, as she 
 was not accustomed to the sallies of brothers and sis- 
 ters ; but she soon recovered herself, and fixed her eyes 
 on those three dummy books which her fingers were itch- 
 ing to handle. 
 
 "Do you wish me to look at the jewels now?" she 
 asked very kindly and respectfully of Mrs. Thornton,
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 15 
 
 who was still immersed in her handkerchief. " Or 
 would you rather wait? " 
 
 " No, we'll begin now," Mrs. Thornton answered, in 
 a grief-stricken voice. 
 
 " Cheer up, Mother dear>" Marion said affection- 
 ately. " Think how jolly it will be if Miss Scott tells 
 us that the jewels are worth a big fortune ! " 
 
 *' Yes, that's the way to look at it, Mater," Rupert 
 said, putting his hand on her shoulder. 
 
 " It is such an ordeal," murmured Mrs. Thornton. 
 
 " It would be a far worse ordeal for us if they didn't 
 exist at all," remarked Winifred severely. 
 
 " Suppose, for instance, they were worth ten thou- 
 sand pounds," Rupert suggested gaily. 
 
 " Far more likely ten thousand pence, old chap," 
 Tom rejoined. " All the stories I've ever read in the 
 past about hidden treasure left me icy cold with dis- 
 appointment. I've begun to freeze already. In fact, 
 I'm below zero." 
 
 He shivered as he spoke and doubled himself up and 
 made his teeth chatter. Tamar laughed. She liked 
 Tom. She was thankful he was there to help the situa- 
 tion. 
 
 " If I were you, I shouldn't begin to freeze until you 
 know for certain that the hidden treasure has proved 
 to be a disappointment," she said. " I've known hid- 
 den treasure that was not." 
 
 "All right," he laughed. "I'll thaw. Here goes. 
 I have thawed." 
 
 " Don't be so frivolous, Tom," Marion said. " Do 
 behave. You'll hurt Mother's feelings." 
 
 " Nothing could hurt my feelings more than they 
 have been hurt," Mrs. Thornton murmured from be-
 
 16 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 neath her cambric handkerchief. " The secrecy has 
 broken my heart." 
 
 There was a pause. Some words of exhortation rose 
 to Winifred's lips, but at a stony glance from Tom she 
 repressed them, and contented herself instead with a low 
 sigh expressive of infinite boredom and resigned hope- 
 lessness. Tom whistled sotto voce, Marion glanced at 
 the mirror opposite and arranged her hair, and Rupert 
 seemed lost in thought. He was thinking that he was 
 glad he had prepared the jewel expert for the possibili- 
 ties of a trying family scene. He wondered whether 
 his mother was really as much hurt by his father's 
 secrecy as she supposed herself to be. Wasn't it just 
 a sort of unconscious pose, the results of the survival 
 of that traditional absurdity which claimed that hus- 
 bands and wives should share the same thoughts, the 
 same outlook and be permanently deprived of any sepa- 
 rate or secret expression of individuality? The claim 
 had never justified itself, of course, and neVer could 
 justify itself. Yet it still persisted and served, as in 
 the case of his mother, as a basis for false sentimental- 
 ity and for indulgence in the luxury of injured pride. 
 Well, he mustn't let that relationship develop between 
 his girl Dorothy and himself. It wasn't good enough. 
 She must be free, and he must be free. 
 
 And then he smiled. He could not imagine Dorothy 
 being anything else except free and " on her own," 
 whether he liked it or not. As for his father's secrecy, 
 it certainly had been a tremendous surprise to them 
 all. But ought they to have been so surprised? His 
 father had always been a strange sort of parent, very 
 detached from them all, undoubtedly very detached
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 17 
 
 from him. He had always admired him and had wanted 
 to be closer to him, but that had been impossible. Ma- 
 rion appeared to have got the nearest and that was 
 not very near, as events proved. He had kept his secret 
 to the end. But, really, his money had been his own 
 to do what he liked with, and he might very well have 
 reasoned with himself that he was combining the secret 
 gratification of a passion with the duty of saving for 
 his family. Rupert rather wished his mother could see 
 it in this light. Perhaps she would, after a time see 
 it impersonally and then suffer less. 
 
 It was T. Scott who broke the silence. She could 
 bear the tension no longer, and she had arrived at such 
 a pitch of excjtement about the contents of those boxes, 
 that she nearly snatched at them. 
 
 " Well, what about the jewels? " she said in her most 
 business-like tone of voice, such as she used at her 
 counter in her shop in Dean Street. 
 
 Her reminder recalled the family, and they were soon 
 all seated at the table, with Tamar in the midst of them 
 and the precious stones spread out before her enrap- 
 tured eyes. Discreet though she was, she could not 
 suppress an exclamation of delight. 
 
 " I'm inclined to think you have a small fortune 
 here," she said half to herself. 
 
 " Hurrah," said Tom cheerfully. " Anything in the 
 neighbourhood of ten thousand pounds? That'll do 
 me nicely." 
 
 " Hush, Tom, don't be a beast," Marion said. " Do 
 behave yourself." 
 
 "He must indeed have enjoyed collecting these gem 
 stones," Tamar said almost in a whisper.
 
 18 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 She handled them one by one, gloating over them, 
 revelling in them, with no thought of their value domi- 
 nant in her mind, but entirely taken up with the magic 
 of their beauty. Rubies, amethysts, sapphires, emer- 
 alds, peridots, Oriental topazes vied with each other in 
 lustre and loveliness ; and an opal with entrancing 
 flashes of flame-red and brilliant green held her spell- 
 bound. Suddenly she started and gave a cry of joy. 
 
 " Ah," she exclaimed, " my star ruby my own star 
 ruby which I always regretted having parted with. 
 However, I got a still more beautiful one in its stead. 
 But this is a very lovely specimen with its shi: :mering, 
 six-pointed star." 
 
 She turned to Rupert. 
 
 " You were speaking of an asteria," she said. 
 " This is the one I described in my book." 
 
 ** How would you know it ? " Winifred asked scep- 
 tically. 
 
 " How would I know? " Tamar repeated with a soft, 
 caressing laugh. " As a shepherd knows his sheep, as 
 an astronomer knows his stars." 
 
 " One for you, Winifred," Tom said, chuckling. 
 
 " It seems entirely unbelievable," Winifred remarked 
 in a matter-of-fact voice. 
 
 " Probably," Tamar answered dreamily. " Yet I 
 remember it well and remember the client to whom I 
 sold it for fifteen hundred pounds." 
 
 " Fifteen hundred pounds ! " they exclaimed in 
 chorus. 
 
 Tamar nodded. 
 
 " I can see him now," she said. " A tall man, with 
 deep-set eyes, lantern- jawed. I remember he stuttered 
 slightly very slightly."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 19 
 
 " My poor husband," Mrs. Thornton said, relapsing 
 into tears. 
 
 But no one noticed. Their whole interest was cen- 
 tred on the gems and on Tamar's comments. She 
 called this one an alexandrite, that one a rose-pink 
 beryl, another a true cat's-eye, another a parti-coloured 
 green sapphire, another a South American emerald, an- 
 other a brown diamond, another a Siam ruby ; and ex- 
 clamation followed on exclamation as, after scrutiniz- 
 ing each gem most carefully, she put a rough value on 
 it which she said would have to be substantiated by 
 proper tests and a more careful consideration of vari- 
 ous characteristics and certain obvious imperfections. 
 A few of the stones, she said, were not valuable in them- 
 selves ; but most of them not only excited in her a warm 
 admiration of their beauty, but also a lively commer- 
 cial appreciation of their worth. She enjoyed herself 
 hugely over the collection, and she enjoyed also the 
 pleasure of giving reassuring verdicts to these young 
 people grouped around her and waiting on her every 
 word. And looking up once, she wxs amused and glad 
 to see that Mrs. Thornton was no longer occupied with 
 her tears and her cambric handkerchief, but was taking 
 a natural and interested part in the proceedings. As 
 ior Tom, he was a source of great amusement to Tamar. 
 He refused to be suppressed, and she laughed softly 
 when he blurted out remarks which were considered out 
 of taste by the family. 
 
 " By Jove," he said once, " but if it's true, as you 
 say, that the Governor knew all about precious stones, 
 why on earth did he want to go and buy any which were 
 valueless? That beats me hollow." 
 
 Tamar smiled indulgently.
 
 20 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " He probably admired something in them," she said. 
 " Some stones are exceedingly interesting from a col- 
 lector's point of view, and yet comparatively valueless. 
 I have some I wouldn't part with for any sum and 
 yet I could not tell you why." 
 
 " I do think he might have given me two or three of 
 the valueless ones," Marion suddenly exclaimed. " He 
 knew I loved pretty things." 
 
 " I think I can explain why he did not," Tamar said 
 kindly. " He probably could not bring himself to 
 break into his collection which, apart from value and 
 interest, represented to him also many cherished memo- 
 ries the joy of search, the delight in finding, the 
 pleasure in possessing. It takes a lover of precious 
 stones to understand that state of mind. To part with 
 one specimen, however insignificant, would be like dig- 
 ging it out of one's very heart." 
 
 " Never mind, Marion, you'll be able to have as many 
 of the rotten ones as you want now," Tom put in. 
 " We'll make you a present of them all and keep the 
 choicest for ourselves. Cheerioh." 
 
 " Would it not be more to the point if we asked Miss 
 Scott the approximate value of the collection ? " Wini- 
 fred remarked in her most frigid tone of superiority. 
 
 " Roughly speaking, I should say about fifty thou- 
 sand pounds," Tamar said, staring at Winifred with 
 the same sort of concentrated interest which she was 
 wont to bestow on a puzzling variety. " I may be a 
 thousand or two out, either one way or the other. But 
 I should say from this hasty examination about fifty 
 thousand pounds." 
 
 " Fifty thousand pounds ! " they exclaimed together 
 in joyful surprise.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 21 
 
 "Well, I'm hanged," Tom said. "My faith is re- 
 stored in hidden treasure." 
 
 " Dear Father has saved for us, after all," Mrs. 
 Thornton murmured, beginning to weep again. 
 
 " Yes, that's the way to look at it," Rupert said, 
 speaking for the first time. " Father invested his 
 money in a way that pleased him and benefits us in the 
 end." 
 
 " He must have had the most exquisite joy in collect- 
 ing and possessing these beautiful stones," Tamar said. 
 " That I can swear to, because I know what I should 
 have felt myself." 
 
 " Can you explain the secrecy? " Winifred asked sen- 
 tentiously. 
 
 " Can you explain human nature? " Tamar asked in 
 return. 
 
 " Ah, there you are," Tom said. " Of course she 
 can't. And who wants fifty thousand pounds ex- 
 plained? The great point is, we've got 'em! " 
 
 Tamar helped Rupert to put the stones carefully 
 back into the boxes, and then rose. 
 
 " I will come up to-morrow and examine them again," 
 she said. " But before I go, I must tell you that an idea 
 has occurred to me which is worth considering. I un- 
 derstand these stones were kept in these dummy ency- 
 clopaedia volumes at the top of the bookcase in Mr. 
 Thornton's study. May I ask how you knew they were 
 there?" 
 
 " There were directions in the will for finding them," 
 Mrs. Thornton faltered. 
 
 "And when was the will dated?" Tamar asked 
 brusquely. 
 
 " Five years ago," Winifred answered promptly.
 
 22 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Don't you remember, Mother, we noticed it was drawn 
 up on your silver-wedding day and that was five 
 years ago." 
 
 Mrs. Thornton nodded assent and retreated imme- 
 diately to the shelter of the cambric handkerchief. 
 
 " I would like to see that book-shelf," Tamar said 
 slowly. " It may be that we should find more stones 
 concealed elsewhere in that same region. I notice that 
 there are several interesting ones missing which no lover 
 of precious stones would ever dream of omitting from 
 his collection." 
 
 " Come on, now's the time," cried Tom. " Perhaps 
 we're in for another thrilling discovery. Come on, 
 girls ; hurry up, Rupe. No time to be lost." 
 
 They trooped out after him, but when they had 
 crossed the hal], he abandoned them and dashed back 
 to his mother, who had remained on the sofa and who 
 was leaning forward gazing into the fire. He knelt 
 down and put his rough-haired head against her breast 
 and kept turning it round in a circular caress. 
 
 " I don't mean half I say, do I, dear old Mater? " he 
 said, half in a whisper. " Look here, don't you worry. 
 The Dad loved you well enough in his funny way, you 
 bet. Men often have shameful secrets worse luck 
 but his wasn't shameful awfully curious and quaint, 
 but not shameful see ! There now, don't you fret. 
 He meant it all for the best probably wanted to hide 
 them from me because he knew I was such a beastly rot- 
 ter and that I'd steal them or pawn them see ! 
 And what about that secret of yours, Mater? You did 
 tell me once that you'd had an early love whom you'd 
 never forgotten and never could forget do you re- 
 member telling me when I fished out that faded photo
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 23 
 
 in your old desk well, perhaps that's been your sort 
 of hidden sapphire or diamond or ruby see! Buck 
 up, old Mater. Cheeriohl It's awfully jolly having 
 fifty thousand pounds, isn't it? Well, I'm off to see 
 the second instalment." 
 
 Her hand, which had been fondling his hair, lay list- 
 less in her lap. and she shook her head once or twice as 
 if in silent refusal of any comfort or consolation of- 
 fered her. Memories of thirty years of married life 
 rose up to mock her. Thirty years she had lived her 
 life side by side with this man and she had known 
 nothing of him. He had been an utter stranger to her. 
 Tens of thousands of pounds could never heal the wound 
 to her sensitiveness, her pride.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 r I iHEY found no further treasure in the library. 
 A They mounted the steps and examined carefully 
 every book on the shelves to make sure that it was in 
 very truth what it seemed to be, a book, and not a secret 
 receptacle for precious stones. Horace, Virgil, Taci- 
 tus, Foxe's " Book of Martyrs," " The Pilgrim's Prog- 
 ress," Shakespeare, Buckle's " History of Civiliza- 
 tion," Ranke's " History of the Popes," and many oth- 
 ers, came under their searching scrutiny, and emerged 
 from the ordeal blameless but disappointing. Tom 
 cried : " Ha hurrah, I've discovered something ! " 
 when he unearthed a locked note-book which looked sus- 
 piciously thick, and certainly encouraged the possibility 
 of disguise. But when they prised it open they saw 
 that it was guileless and uninteresting, with blank pages 
 stained by age and dust. 
 
 " It's no use," he said. " I suppose we've got all the 
 plunder. And I think we ought to be jolly well satis- 
 fied." 
 
 The others agreed, but Tamar was not satisfied, and 
 kept on saying to herself: 
 
 "Where are the spinels? There must be spinels. 
 It isn't at all likely that there would not be spinels in 
 his collection. Probably they are in another hiding- 
 place, together with other stones." 
 
 But although obsessed by this thought, she tried to 
 
 remind herself that the fact of there being no spinels 
 
 24
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 25 
 
 was really no concern of hers, and she returned to Mrs. 
 Thornton to say good-bye. To her surprise, Mrs. 
 Thornton asked her not to go back to the hotel, but to 
 spend the night at Marton Grange. 
 
 " Please, please do," they all said, circling round her 
 as if she were an old friend whom they could not suffer 
 to depart. 
 
 Tamar was pleased in her queer way, for she had al- 
 ways yearned secretly for young companionship, and 
 had not found, or else had not been able temperamen- 
 tally to take the chances of coming into an intimate 
 relationship with young people. So she allowed her- 
 self to be persuaded to remain at Marton Grange; and 
 Winifred herself, with a hospitable concern which had 
 nothing psychological in it, installed her in the oak 
 bedroom overlooking the moor, whilst Marion and Tom 
 tumbled down to the hotel to say she would not be 
 coming, and to fetch her suit-case. Mrs. Thornton 
 roused herself from her sad thoughts and produced 
 from her linen cupboard the best and most unhealthily 
 heavy counterpane she could find. Tamar was, in fact, 
 made welcome, and she sat amongst them that evening 
 as a friend rather than as a stranger, told them thrill- 
 ing things about precious stones, and the many super- 
 stitions connected with them and some of her curi- 
 ous experiences with clients, and gave herself out in 
 every way for their benefit, stimulated by the feeling 
 that they regarded her coming as a godsend and her 
 good news as a blessing. 
 
 Probably never before in her life had she been so kind, 
 so human, so companionable; and she not only held 
 their interest and attention, but acted as a balm to each 
 of them and won their united gratitude by her interpre-
 
 26 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 tation and championship of that husband and father 
 who had hugged his secret to himself and had only had 
 it wrested from him by that Greater Mystery than any 
 earthly secret. 
 
 She could explain him because she could understand 
 him. In glowing words, in dreamy phrases, in soft, 
 crooning tones, she dwelt on the magic of precious 
 stones, their enthralling power, their permeating influ- 
 ence, their haunting persistency. She told how you 
 might be dominated by the passion for them, tormented 
 by hunger and thirst of spirit for some special gem 
 stone on which you had set your heart and riveted your 
 eyes, and not be appeased until you had secured it and 
 added it to your collection yes, and revelled in the 
 secret possession of it. She said this passion was in 
 some sense detached, impersonal, a passion of rapturous 
 enthusiasm not necessarily of greed, and not inspired 
 by selfishness nor the desire to wound, to hurt, to slight, 
 to deprive. In her own life, for instance, she could tell 
 them that .over and over again her own passion for 
 precious stones had swept aside the most pressing claims 
 of her other passion, business good business. 
 
 " If you knew me," she said, " you would understand 
 that if that was possible in my case, anything would be 
 possible in any other case." 
 
 And turning to Marion, she said: 
 
 " Do you see, perhaps, why, even though loving you 
 dearly and knowing you cared for pretty things, he 
 could not bring himself to spare you so much as even 
 a little seed pearl ? " 
 
 " I think I see," she answered in a low voice. 
 
 " Of course she sees," Tom put in. " Any idiot 
 would after what you've been telling us."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 27 
 
 He had voiced their general feeling. Wonder, spec- 
 ulation, resentment, grief, soreness, bitterness would 
 surge up again in their separate breasts, but T. Scott 
 had rounded off some of the edge of the knife which had 
 wounded them. 
 
 She had the satisfaction of knowing that very night 
 that her championship of Mr. Thornton, her comrade 
 in spirit, had not been in vain. For when she was in 
 her room and was warming herself by the fire, there 
 came a knock at the door. On opening it, she found 
 Mrs. Thornton standing on the threshold. 
 
 " I came to see that you had everything you wanted," 
 she said. 
 
 " Everything," Tamar assured her. " More than 
 everything. I'm not accustomed to a lovely fire in my 
 bedroom. Will you not be seated for a moment and 
 warm your hands? " 
 
 " It is cold on the moor," Mrs. Thornton said, " and 
 this is a specially cold room. I am glad that they've 
 made up a good fire for you. No, I won't detain you 
 now. I am sure you must be tired." 
 
 But still she lingered, and it was evident that she had 
 something she wished to say, but that she could not 
 make up her mind to give utterance to it. She was no 
 longer tearful and tremulous with emotion, but, on the 
 contrary, a serene and dignified presence, calm with a 
 new-found hope and a larger vision. Tamar stared at 
 her and wondered. At last she left the fireplace where 
 she had been standing and passed to the door. There 
 she paused. 
 
 " Something lost recovered" she murmured with a 
 most wonderful spiritual expression on her countenance 
 which Tamar never forgot. The door closed on her;
 
 28 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 and Tamar, alone, paced up and down repeating her 
 words. 
 
 About ten minutes later she was visited by Marion 
 who made no excuse for disturbing her, and went 
 through no preliminaries. 
 
 " I could not go to sleep tonight without telling you 
 how you have helped me," she said simply. " I've loved 
 Father dearly, and I couldn't bear to think how he had 
 shut me out in the cold. You see, we've been so much 
 together, he and I. He knew perfectly well that I 
 adored jewellery and nice clothes and all that sort of 
 thing. He used to tease me on the subject, but always 
 took my part when Winifred was ' superior.' She 
 hadn't the least inclination that way, but I had. And 
 he knew. And you'd think he would have had the im- 
 pulse once or twice to gratify me, when all the time he 
 was keeping those wonderful jewels under our very 
 noses but hidden away safely. It upset me awfully 
 I've just felt he couldn't have loved me at all 
 that's the part which has really upset me oh, I don't 
 pretend that I shouldn't have adored the jewels in any 
 case, but as gifts from him they would have been a 
 thousand times more valuable, because, you see, he has 
 meant so much to me and I did believe I meant a lit- 
 tle to him and then suddenly all affection seemed 
 turned into a mockery and a farce. That is what poor 
 old Mother has felt. But now you've explained him 
 I think you're quite wonderful you've made me un- 
 derstand. You've been awfully good to us I wish 
 you could hear what the boys are saying about you 
 and Mother dear old Mother, and even Wini- 
 fred. . . ." 
 
 At that moment Winifred herself arrived on the
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 29 
 
 scene, making- as an excuse for her intrusion that she 
 had come to fetch Marion, who must not be allowed 
 to keep their visitor any longer from her rest. 
 
 " I am sure you must be tired out," she said. " Come 
 along, Marion. I want to speak to you about some- 
 thing." 
 
 And she added, with some degree of nervousness and 
 with far less superiority of manner: 
 
 " You've given us a remarkable lesson in psychology 
 tonight, Miss Scott. It has been deeply interesting 
 and helpful. Good-night." 
 
 Tamar, left alone at last, suddenly realized that she 
 was thoroughly played out and exhausted. The early 
 start from London in the morning, the long journey, 
 the delight over the stones, the unusual interest attach- 
 ing to the circumstances and the royal way in which 
 she had spent herself during the evening for these peo- 
 ple and given them of her best, had told on her nerves. 
 She threw herself on the bed without undressing, and 
 lay half asleep, half awake, with thoughts focussed on 
 the surroundings in which she found herself. And al- 
 ways there rose before her a vision of Mr. Thornton 
 bending over his treasures in that locked library, revel- 
 ling in them, hiding them afresh and then gazing up to 
 the bookcase and smiling perhaps, because he knew they 
 were safe from prying eyes and the chance of suspicious 
 search. Yes, yes, she understood him well. She could 
 follow the workings of his mind. She could sympa- 
 thize with his emotions of pride and joy when he con- 
 templated his beautiful specimens chosen so wisely, so 
 carefully, and with such expert knowledge. She could 
 even surmise some of the struggles he must have inter-
 
 30 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 mittently made to throw off the spell under which he 
 was being held, and to rid himself of the bondage for 
 the sake of those he loved. She could almost hear him 
 whispering : 
 
 " Some day I shall tell them show them share 
 with, them. But not today." 
 
 And such stones. Almost a faultless judgment he 
 appeared to have. 
 
 And where were the spinels? 
 
 The more she thought about the collection, the more 
 convinced she became that tnere must be spinels some- 
 where, and that he would never have been content with- 
 out even one or two varieties of these very interesting 
 blood relations of the ruby, which she herself greatly 
 admired for their diversity of beautiful colouring and 
 particularly for the pale delicate shades unlike any 
 other precious stones. It was inconceivable that he 
 should not have acquired a few specimens, if not the 
 *' flame-red " spinel itself, with its burning coal effect, 
 a very rare stone and greatly appreciated by connois- 
 seurs. No, the spinels were somewhere, and perhaps 
 other gems with them. But where? If not in any 
 other dummy books, where, then? 
 
 At l~st, having worn out her brain with vague but 
 persistent conjecture, she fell fast asleep, and dreamed 
 about them. 
 
 She was searching for them in her own shop, taking 
 now a ruby, now an opal, now an aquamarine out of 
 her own safe, and believing each time that she had at 
 length unearthed the missing spinels, and then laughing 
 at her own stupidity as she recognized instead the fa- 
 miliar and dearly-prized objects of her own collection. 
 Suddenly the scene and circumstance changed. She
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 31 
 
 found herself mounting laboriously a steep hill which 
 led to a village on the edge of a moor. It was a dark 
 night, and the wind blew strong and cold. She longed 
 to be in the shelter of her shop in Dean Street, and 
 wondered why she had taken this journey to the wilds 
 of Yorkshire. The fee she would get was not worth 
 the toil of the ascent nor the battling with the elements. 
 She pressed on without a pause until she reached the 
 blacksmith's forge, where some one in the dim past, aeons 
 ago, had told her to rest and recover her breath before 
 she attacked the remaining and still more fatiguing half 
 of the climb. A tall man, with a thin face and with lan- 
 tern jaws, suddenly came round the corner, and said to 
 her with a slight stutter: 
 
 " I've been expecting you to come. I want to show 
 you my spinels especially my ' flame-red ' spinel. 
 You'll envy it, I know. It is a very beautiful one." 
 
 " Ah," she said, " I thought you'd have spinels some- 
 where." 
 
 " Of course," he said, " but I've changed my hiding- 
 place." 
 
 And he laughed softly, and rubbed his hands with a 
 sly glee, and she laughed softly too, in complete sym- 
 pathy with her comrade in spirit whom she understood 
 so well. Again the scene changed suddenly, and she 
 was alone in a room which after a time she recognized 
 as Mr. Thornton's library, where she and the Thornton 
 children had previously searched in vain for the spinels 
 which she was certain must be hidden away somewhere. 
 She did not search now. Her eyes were riveted on an 
 old Bible box in the corner, dated 1640, piled up with 
 old books and papers yellow with age and apparently 
 undisturbed by meddling, tidying hands one of those
 
 32 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 precious rubbish heaps, in fact, inviolate by reason of 
 the hopeless task involved in reducing its chaos to an 
 ordered perfection. 
 
 " Not there, surely? " she said. And, as if in reply, 
 she heard the echo of a soft laugh. Then, with a thrill 
 of excitement, she almost leapt towards the uncompro- 
 mising stack, and was on the point of lifting off some 
 of the top papers when she awoke. Outside, the 
 wind was raging as she had heard it in her dream, and 
 she shivered and shuddered from cold and a nameless 
 fear, and crept to the fire, which, though low in the 
 grate, was still sending out a comforting warmth and a 
 reassuring glow. 
 
 " A dream," she said, still half dazed. " Even in my 
 dreams I cannot get those spinels out of my head. 
 Perhaps if I have a good warm and go to bed properly, 
 I shall forget about them and sleep in peace." 
 
 But no peace came, and no desire for rest. Her 
 nerves were tingling with a strange excitement, and she 
 became obsessed with the memory of her dream, recalled 
 every detail of it, and even heard the echo of that soft 
 laugh borne to her, now from this direction, now from 
 that. It impelled her to take action, against her will, 
 against her physical inclination ; but she had no power 
 to resist the imperiousness of its appeal, and she lit a 
 candle, opened the door cautiously, and stood on the 
 landing hesitating, half hoping to hear in the house 
 some sound of life which would decide her to return to 
 her own quarters. Finally she did return, but only to 
 fetch some gloves. It struck her they were necessary 
 for secrecy. 
 
 There was no sound except the raging of the wind 
 and the ticking of the great clock in the hall. The
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 33 
 
 coast was clear for her to go downstairs and continue 
 that search urged on her in the first instance by her own 
 instinct, and now by some power outside her control. 
 She went down the stairs quickly but with an entire 
 noiselessness, and passed along the passage on the left 
 which she remembered led to the library. The next 
 moment she opened the door, closed it, and stood alone 
 in Mr. Thornton's sanctum, where he had held his revels 
 and fostered his secret aims and ambitions. With a 
 trembling hand Tamar raised the candle, and saw in the 
 corner the Bible box with its super-imposed burden of 
 papers, documents and books. Instantly her nervous- 
 ness, her reluctance, were dispelled as 'though by magic. 
 She leapt to it exactly as she had leapt in her dream, 
 and without a moment's hesitation began removing the 
 piled-up barricade guarding the object of her search. 
 In her excitement she almost tore some of the things 
 down, so frantically eager was she to learn whether she 
 had in very truth been prompted to the real place of 
 concealment, or whether her dream had been merely a 
 delusion, a senseless nothing, like so many of our 
 dreams. 
 
 At last she reached the Bible box, but instead of 
 opening it, she remained on her knees staring at it, 
 fumbling with the unlocked clasp, fiercely anxious to 
 raise the lid and yet unwilling to risk a possible dis- 
 appointment. Then she took courage and opened the 
 Bible box. She found an old backgammon box inside, 
 which she lifted out with trembling hands. She opened 
 it, and gave a low cry when she saw that it contained 
 precious stones of various kinds. She bore it to the 
 writing-desk, where she had placed the candle, and pro- 
 ceeded to examine the stones.
 
 34 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Yes, there were the spinels, quite a number of them, 
 and amongst them a perfect " flame-red " spinel, of rare 
 beauty, and in addition several emeralds, mossy, but of 
 lovely colour, an alexandrite cat's-eye, two cornflower 
 blue sapphires, many opals, some fine aquamarines, a 
 few red tourmalines of remarkable transparency, two 
 or three very choice specimens of turquoise, several 
 " fancy " sapphires, a star sapphire, a rose-pink beryl, 
 many other stones of varying interest or value, and last, 
 but not least, four perfectly round pearls of unrivalled 
 lustre, and without blemish. 
 
 As soon as she discovered these pearls, she desired 
 them fiercely. She yearned to possess them, both for 
 their beauty and their worth. Her passion was aroused, 
 her avarice was excited by them. She asked herself why 
 should she not have them, why should she not take them. 
 No one would know. There they were, given into her 
 hands. Not a soul in the world would be the wiser if 
 she took them. Were they not, in fact, almost her 
 right, since she had unearthed them? The people up- 
 stairs would never miss what they had not seen or 
 known, and as for robbing them, well, had they not 
 already come unexpectedly into a respectable fortune 
 big enough to content any family, who, from what she 
 could learn, had feared they had to face, if not poverty, 
 at least very small means? 
 
 " They are so beautiful," she kept on whispering. 
 " I want them. I don't want the other things. I won't 
 touch the other things. But I want the pearls. I must 
 have them. No one will know." 
 
 She passed through an agony of sore temptation, 
 pocketed them once 3 restored them, reclaimed them,
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 35 
 
 stood possessed of them, tense but triumphant and 
 then shook her head, slowly and sorrowfully. 
 
 " No," she said. No." 
 
 She replaced them with a deep sigh and, as if afraid 
 of further temptation, closed the box hurriedly, put it 
 back into the Bible box, and built up the stack of books 
 and papers with feverish haste but clear remembrance of 
 detail. She glanced at it critically, to make sure that 
 it retained its appearance of undisturbed neglect, 
 snatched up the candle, fled from the library and gained 
 her room in safety.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WHEN Tamar awoke that morning, she remem- 
 bered instantly her dream, the events of the 
 night, her temptation and her resistance. She was 
 happy that she had not yielded to the amazing oppor- 
 tunity of securing secretly those beautiful and valuable 
 pearls, although she would not have been human not to 
 regret the loss of them as possessions and also as com- 
 mercial possibilities. But it was a distinct relief to 
 know that her honour was intact, at least on this occa- 
 sion, and that she had not failed in fidelity to Mrs. 
 Thornton and those young people who had welcomed 
 her so kindly, nor turned traitor to the man whom she 
 had been championing and interpreting with an under- 
 standing inspired by a kindred enthusiasm. She said 
 that she would have been doubly ashamed of herself if 
 she had used to her own advantage the revelation vouch- 
 safed to her in her dream. For in some mysterious way 
 he had communed with her, shown his trust in her, 
 guided her; and disloyalty to him would have been an 
 infinitely worse sin than to any member of his family, 
 since he was powerless to punish her and avenge him- 
 self. Yet, on reflection, she would have hated, too, to 
 rob Tom, Rupert, Marion, even Winifred, and above 
 all their mother, to whom, by her help Tamar's help 
 " something lost had been restored," something more 
 precious than rubies an ultimate belief in love. 
 " As for the temptation," Tamar said aloud, as if in 
 
 answer to an accuser, " don't read me any moral lecture 
 
 36
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 37 
 
 on that subject. Most of us would like to steal if we 
 had a good and a safe chance. We may not own to the 
 impulse, perhaps. And often we do not succumb to it. 
 But it is there." 
 
 And she added, with a sigh of profound regret : 
 " Ah, those four pearls took a lot of resisting such 
 a colour, such a skin, such a lustre ! " 
 
 She told the family nothing about her dream nor 
 her discovery ; but after she had gone carefully through 
 the collection again, applied various tests and modified 
 or verified her verdicts of the previous night, she urged 
 on them the duty and the necessity of making a thor- 
 ough search in every corner of the library. In fact she 
 insisted on it, for the purposes of the valuation. 
 
 " I am still convinced that there must be more stones 
 somewhere," she said to the young people. " I shall 
 be very surprised if you do not find spinels. It seems 
 incredible that Mr. Thornton should not have had a 
 flame-red spinel. If I were you, I would open every 
 drawer, every box, every parcel of papers everything, 
 in fact, especially that which would not seem to promise 
 or suggest secrecy. For there is no denying the fact 
 that your father was peculiar." 
 
 " Cheerioh," Tom said with a merry wink. " Mad, I 
 should think." 
 
 " Oh, Tom, don't," Winifred interposed severely. 
 
 " Hang it, can't we say what we all think, now that 
 Mother isn't here? " he returned. " Of course he was 
 sort of mad. An awfully jolly madness, I admit. I 
 wonder whether we've all inherited it, and are all hiding 
 valuable treasures in out-of-the-way places. I believe 
 Winifred is. I think I'd better go and look in her
 
 38 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 sponge-bag. Rupert, old chap, do you happen to have 
 anything tucked away snugly amongst your fishing 
 tackle?" 
 
 " Well," Marion said, " I vote we don't say anything 
 to Mother unless we find something. She seems so 
 much happier today. It would be a pity to upset her." 
 
 " Yes, we must leave the Mater out of it for the mo- 
 ment," Rupert said. "But of course Miss Scott is 
 right to insist. We ought to turn everything inside 
 out." 
 
 " Come on, I'm ready," Tom said. " You'll help too, 
 won't you, Miss Scott? " 
 
 But Tamar shook her head and rose from the table. 
 
 " No," she answered brusquely. " That's your af- 
 fair, not mine. As I am here, I don't mind waiting for 
 two or three hours more whilst you make the search, 
 and I'll go on the moor. But . . ." 
 
 She hesitated a moment, and then suddenly her com- 
 mercial instincts got the better of her friendliness, and 
 she added: 
 
 " But my time is valuable. I shall expect my fee to 
 be increased by reason of the unusual circumstances." 
 
 They glanced at her in astonishment. She had 
 shown them up to this moment such an entirely differ- 
 ent side of her nature that they were altogether unpre- 
 pared for the transformation in her manner, in her 
 very expression of countenance, in her outlook on life. 
 It was as though they had received a tremendous shock 
 from an unexpected quarter; and they had to recover 
 from it before they could even begin to see the incident 
 in 'its proper light. After all, this stranger had only 
 come amongst them on a business errand. If they had 
 been forgetting the object of her visit, it was evident
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 39 
 
 that she had not. This was Rupert's view of the mat- 
 ter, as he drew himself up almost imperceptibly, and 
 said, with an almost imperceptible curl of the lips : 
 
 " Of course your fee will be increased by reason of 
 the unusual circumstances." 
 
 Tamar showed no sign that she had noticed either 
 their amazement or the slight tone of contempt in Ru- 
 pert's answer. She merely nodded 'as if satisfied that 
 the matter had been decided, and went upstairs to fetch 
 her coat and hat. 
 
 " Well, I'm blessed, she has got her eye on her money, 
 hasn't she?" Tom said. 
 
 " Why shouldn't she, Tom? " asked Marion warmly. 
 " You've got your eye on yours." 
 
 " We are entire strangers to her," remarked Rupert. 
 " Why should she give her time to us for nothing? " 
 
 " If you thought like that, why did you treat her to 
 a little dose of contempt, old thing? " said Tom with 
 one of his grins. " It nearly withered me up." 
 
 " Couldn't help it," he answered. " I was so sur- 
 prised. I hope she didn't notice it." 
 
 " I'm not so sure," Winifred said. " I think I'll fol- 
 low her on to the moor." 
 
 " You'd better not," Tom said. " I may bag some 
 of your share of the fresh plunder if we find any. 
 Come on, girls ; come on, Rupe. We've got to see this 
 thing through. Perhaps we're going to dig out an- 
 other thousand or two. Here, you can all go ahead, 
 whilst I just run after her and make sure she's not 
 using a cambric handkerchief." 
 
 " I'll come too," Marion said eagerly. 
 
 " I'm coming also," Winifred said decidedly. 
 
 " I ought to be the one to go, since I did the stunt,*'
 
 40 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 said Rupert. " I'd like to go. She has only just 
 started. I shall soon catch her up. You others get to 
 work, and I'll be back in a few minutes." 
 
 So it was the sound of Rupert's voice which made 
 Tamar turn round on the moor. She went to meet 
 him as he came towards her, and it crossed her mind 
 that here was a man who had sacrificed health and 
 youthful strength for his country, which really meant 
 for thousands and thousands of people who were noth- 
 ing to him except representatives of an idea and here 
 was herself, a grasping, avaricious woman, who had 
 claimed extra payment for two or three hours' delay. 
 No wonder he had not been able to conceal the con- 
 tempt he had felt. What did he want with her now? 
 
 " I say," he said cheerily, " I've come to tell you that 
 it's awfully marshy over to the left there, past that 
 disused quarry. They all wanted to come and warn 
 you, but I snuffed them all out and bagged the job." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Thank you," she said. "I'll look out. I don't 
 often go for walks. The country does not interest me 
 as a rule. But I must say that this is a wonderful 
 scene." 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I often used to think of these moors 
 when I was at the front." 
 
 " Search that room well," she said. " Don't hurry 
 over it. I don't suppose I'm really so pressed for time. 
 And . . ." 
 
 She hesitated, and flushed a little. Capitulation was 
 never easy to Tamar, but that wonderful expanse of 
 wild moorland helped her. 
 
 " I take back what I said about an extra fee," she 
 blurted out at last. " I don't want it."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 41 
 
 She turned from him abruptly, and struck off on a 
 track to the right. The dead heather and ling, brown 
 as the dying bracken, but inter jewelled with lingering 
 heliotrope tints, was caught by the sun in a glow of 
 radiant redness, the deep, fiery red of a blood orange. 
 Then a cloud came, and the moor settled into sombre- 
 ness, but broke out once more into an increased re- 
 splendency as the sun emerged and worked its will on 
 the autumn glories of Nature. 
 
 Tamar, unaccustomed to watch Nature, uninterested 
 in its varying phases and manifestations, was never- 
 theless held in wonder by the beauty which met her eyes, 
 by the rolling expanse, by moor rising above moor in 
 the distance, by the black clouds casting their shadows 
 now here, now there, by the -sunshine with its fitful 
 triumphs, by the long grass shimmering with light and 
 answering to the many voices of the wind. The clean, 
 strong air swept through her, invigorating, purifying, 
 liberating. She became aware, perhaps for the first 
 time, that her aims, her plans were extraordinarily 
 small, and that the horizon in her shop in Dean Street 
 was painfully limited. Once or twice her friend, Chris- 
 topher Bramfield, had hinted at this, and she had 
 promptly snubbed him. Had he been right? Cer- 
 tainly for the moment, very unimportant seemed to her 
 the successful business deals on which she prided her- 
 self, the precious stones on which she set such store, 
 and infinitely contemptible the impulses of avarice, 
 which more often than not determined her courses of 
 action. At the back of her brain she knew that all 
 values would return to their proper traditional pro- 
 portions in her estimate, but for this brief spell they 
 had shrunk to skin and bone.
 
 42 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Yet she argued with herself, too. Why should she 
 be ashamed of her greed ? She had never been ashamed 
 before. There was no earthly reason, for instance, 
 why she should have prolonged her stay amongst these 
 people, except for the advantage of an additional fee. 
 That was the right way to look at it. But when she 
 had arrived at this consoling conclusion, the figure of 
 Rupert, broken in the war, rose before her mind's eye. 
 She caught once more the fleeting expression of con- 
 tempt on his face, and she watched him limping towards 
 her, the bearer of a healing message to obliterate the 
 scar of scorn. And again she was ashamed. 
 
 Her mind turned to the war. The sight, the thought 
 of his permanent disablement arrested her attention and 
 aroused her sympathy. It was the first occasion on 
 which she had been brought into any personal relation- 
 ship with any one who had taken part in the war. 
 So far, the war had meant nothing to her except in so 
 much as it enabled her to drive a good bargain with 
 those who came in their impoverished circumstances to 
 dispose of their valuables. She had shown herself, as 
 always, relentless towards these clients; and no tales 
 of distress, and no pleas on behalf of soldiers, sailors, 
 mine-sweepers or refugees had ever induced her to relax 
 her demands. Except for the giving of an occasional 
 cheque, after much reluctance and primarily to ease 
 her own conscience, and to appease Bramficld, who, so 
 she considered, was ridiculously interested in public af- 
 fairs, Tamar had pursued her own unalterable course, 
 untouched by the tremendous world-upheaval, by the 
 tragic happenings of each day, by joyful tidings from 
 the front, by ominous silences, by rumours of disaster, 
 and stories of incredible cruelty and barbarism, by Bel-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 43 
 
 gium's agony and France's noble endurance and our 
 own record of British courage and sacrifice. Chang- 
 ing politicians, pacifists, conscientious objectors, and 
 pro-Germans had held equal rank of an entire insignifi- 
 cance in her mind. The claims of a whole universe in 
 travail had failed to break in upon her concentration 
 on personal affairs within the four walls of that narrow 
 world in Dean Street. 
 
 And at that time this was as true of thousands of 
 other people as of Tamar. The message had not 
 reached them. They took care that it should not reach 
 them, even as Tamar had taken care. 
 
 She protected herself now. She switched her mind 
 off from thoughts of the war aroused by Rupert Thorn- 
 ton's disablement, and switched it on to the collection 
 of precious stones in Marton Grange. Yes, that star 
 ruby was very beautiful, but not so perfect as the one 
 she had at present. Would she care to acquire any of 
 the gems for herself? Well, she must think over that 
 matter. But there was no need to think twice where 
 those four glorious pearls were concerned. Those she 
 must and would have at any cost. What would she 
 have to pay for them? Something in the neighbour- 
 hood of two thousand pounds, she supposed, unless she 
 could manage to drive a hard bargain and get them 
 for a few hundred pounds less. Perhaps that would be 
 possible. She shook her head. 
 
 " No," she said aloud. " I must not behave badly 
 if I can help it. I must pay a fair price to these peo- 
 ple." 
 
 And she repeated with a sigh : 
 
 " It will have to be something in the neighbourhood 
 of two thousand pounds, I fear."
 
 44 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Then she began to wonder whether the Thorntons 
 had by now discovered the Bible box and the treasures 
 it contained. If they did not interfere with that pile of 
 papers, how was she to put them on the track without 
 betraying the fact that she herself had already been 
 exploring? How could she direct them? She could 
 not direct .them at all. Of course she could not. It 
 would be folly. Out of protection to herself, she must 
 remain silent and keep her own counsel. Suppos- 
 ing she did tell them what she had found in the 
 night? Naturally, they could not be entirely sure that 
 she had left the contents of the Bible box intact and 
 inviolate. It was obvious, then, that she would rest 
 under a suspicion which was, in the circumstances, per- 
 fectly natural and justifiable. If it were her case, she 
 would undoubtedly take that view. Of course she must 
 remain silent. 
 
 " It was hard enough to resist stealing those pearls," 
 she said. " But to resist and then run the chance of 
 being suspected no, thank you. The idea might not 
 occur to the others, perhaps, but it might to the elder 
 sister, Winifred. She would reason it out on psycho- 
 logical grounds. I can hear her. No, it wouldn't be 
 safe. I must leave the matter to chance, or to Tom. 
 Mr. Tom will surely ferret them out." 
 
 She laughed when she thought of Tom. She liked 
 him immensely. She liked his almost brutal frankness, 
 half of it the outcome of high spirits, and half the de- 
 sire to make his family " sit up." She was honestly 
 glad that she had not cheated him of what he would 
 have called " his plunder." Indeed, she was increas- 
 ingly thankful that she had not robbed any one of them, 
 for she liked them all, each in a different way. They
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 45 
 
 interested her, arrested her. She rather wondered how 
 Mr. Thornton had been able to concentrate his at- 
 tention on gems and maintain a truly sinister se- 
 crecy in the midst of bright presences which might 
 well have evoked other sympathies and urged other 
 claims. 
 
 Well, but at least he had had his wife and his children 
 to whom to leave his treasures. Probably this had 
 been his justification to himself both for his indulgence 
 and his secrecy. He might even have been encouraged 
 by the consoling reflection that he was accumulating 
 treasure which would, represent a fortune to them when 
 he was dead. Her own mother, whom .Tamar had 
 adored, and from whom she had inherited her love of 
 precious stones, had rejoiced not only over the gems 
 themselves, but over the wealth which she was amassing 
 for her child. 
 
 " One more treasure for my Tamar," she had said 
 time after time. 
 
 It passed through Tamar's mind that in her own case 
 no love, no concern for others, however remote or shad- 
 owy, had ever raised her own passion for precious 
 stones to a higher plane than the one it now belonged 
 to the lust of rapturous possession. 
 
 When she at length returned to the house, Tom came 
 dashing out to meet her. 
 
 " I say," he cried, " we're awfully bucked. We've 
 found some more stones at least, I've found 'em. 
 And where do you think? " 
 
 Tamar shook her head innocently. 
 
 " I haven't an idea," she said, smiling a dove-like 
 smile of detached innocence. 
 
 " Why, in that rotten old Bible box, under all the
 
 46 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 rubbish-neap in the corner," he laughed. " Hidden 
 away in an ancient backgammon box. Pearls and all 
 sorts of things spinels, for all I know. Sly old fox, 
 the Governor! Changed his hiding-place, evidently! 
 Come along and tell us about them. We're dying to 
 know. I'll go and break the sad news to the Mater, and 
 help her to recover from her preliminary weep, and 
 then bring her down to the library. You really are 
 top-hole to have put us on the scent." 
 
 " But I didn't put you on the scent," she said. " I 
 I wanted to but " 
 
 " Wanted to," he repeated. " Why, it was your 
 stunt and no one else's. You seemed to be so sure, that 
 you made us all sure too. So we persevered and turned 
 everything inside out, and each time we were disap- 
 pointed we kept on saying that if you believed it there 
 must be something in it, and that you evidently under- 
 stood the old Governor and knew what he was about. 
 See? " 
 
 Tamar never disguised her feelings better than when 
 she handled the newly-found stones, passed judgment 
 on them and gave her opinion of their respective values. 
 If her hands trembled when she touched the coveted 
 pearls, no one noticed. The quiet indifference which 
 she assumed when she remarked that she would rather 
 like the first refusal of them, masked to perfection her 
 yearning over them, her desire for them, her familiarity 
 with them. The only sign of enthusiasm she allowed 
 herself to show was over the spinels. There she was on 
 safe ground. 
 
 "I knew that he would have spinels," she said tri- 
 umphantly, " and beautiful ones too. These are very 
 fine and interesting. And this is what is called a
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 47 
 
 * flame-red ' spinel. It is rare and valuable. I felt 
 sure he would have it." 
 
 " It would interest me greatly to know how you were 
 led to that conclusion," Winifred remarked senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 Tamar smiled indulgently. 
 
 " I could not explain," she said. " I admire them 
 so much that perhaps I am biassed and think every one 
 ought to prize them. Their range of colour alone 
 makes them very interesting stones, and they are ex- 
 ceedingly decorative. Queen Elizabeth thought so. 
 She had several amongst her jewels. Look at this 
 
 * flame-red ' one, Mr. Tom. Don't you see the coal fire 
 all aglow in it? That's worth a nice little sum." 
 
 " Let's hope," said Tom with a grin, " that you'll be 
 seized with a whole series of convictions that there are 
 more jewels hidden away somewhere or other in Marton 
 Grange. Send me a wire, and I'll ferret them out soon 
 enough you bet." 
 
 " Tom, Tom," said his mother reproachfully, " surely 
 we ought to be satisfied with what we have found." 
 
 " I don't imagine you'll find anything more," Tamar 
 said thoughtfully. " I should judge that for a choice 
 collection of this sort, it is now fairly complete." 
 
 " But," she added with a soft little laugh, " if I do 
 have a series of convictions when I'm back in the shop, 
 I must send a series of wires." 
 
 " Ah, that shop in Dean Street," said Rupert. 
 " I'm 'longing to see it. I'm coming, too." 
 
 There was a chorus of agreement on that point, and 
 a very definite decision that, whether Tamar liked it or 
 not, they were not going to lose sight of her. They 
 had all forgotten that she had given them a cold douche
 
 48 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 by her sudden attack of business alertness, by her sur- 
 prising transformation from a personal friend into a 
 complete stranger making terms with them. And, in- 
 deed, for the whole remainder of the time she was with 
 them and they persuaded her to stay another night 
 at Marton Grange there was not a trace of the busi- 
 ness side of her nature, either in her manner or in her 
 remarks. Once again Tamar showed them the best 
 part of her complicated character, and won them for 
 her friends. When she left the next morning there was 
 not one of the family who did not regret her departure. 
 Mrs. Thornton found it necessary to call the cambric 
 handkerchief into requisition. 
 
 Tamar at this juncture looked a little embarrassed 
 and sheepish, for no one before had ever shed tears in 
 parting from her except, of course, tears of rage, of 
 disappointed hopes and thwarted plans. Those she 
 had ever been able to evoke by the bucket, by the gal- 
 lon, and to ignore them with a cold indifference. But 
 here was something of another order, something against 
 which she had no weapon of defence, nor wished to have. 
 
 It intermingled with her other memories of the coun- 
 tryside: with the wide spaces of the far-stretching 
 moors, with the wonder of their detailed and varied 
 beauty, with the vision of the racing clouds overhead, 
 with the rush of the strong, clean wind, uplifting, 
 strengthening, purifying, with the sight of the shepherd 
 passing through the village with his flock on his way 
 to lower pastures, with the glacier-like greeting from 
 the swift river, with the last good-byes to her new 
 friends on the little station, with the sound of their 
 cheerful voices, with the irresistible appeal of their 
 youth.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ABOUT two months after Tamar's visit to Marton 
 Grange, she was standing behind her counter in 
 her shop in Dean Street looking up some entry in one 
 of the ledgers, when a new client arrived on the scene, 
 a smart, fashionably-dressed woman, wearing long ear- 
 rings, which always had the effect of irritating T. 
 Scott. Added to this initial annoyance, was a sense of 
 personal injury and even insult arising from the fact 
 that this woman evidently knew how to hold her own in 
 a business transaction, knew values, knew what she 
 wanted, and was entirely unaffected by Tamar's glacial 
 manner. 
 
 " I am prepared to pay three pounds seven shillings 
 and sixpence for this crucifix," she said, her earrings 
 bobbing as if in confirmation of this statement. " Not 
 a penny more. It is not worth four pounds, and you 
 know it." 
 
 T. Scott knew that perfectly, but it did not follow 
 that she could not get a few more shillings for it, per- 
 haps even a pound extra if she waited her opportunity 
 of securing a more ignorant customer; and so she 
 glared for a moment at this hostile personage, and then 
 very slowly and deliberately, and without comment, re- 
 placed the crucifix in the window, and returned to her 
 ledger as if there were no one awaiting her decision. 
 
 " Well, of all the rude people in the world," the 
 woman exclaimed, " you take the lead. I certainly 
 could not recommend any one to come here." 
 
 49
 
 50 
 
 " No, pray don't," T Scott said grimly, without 
 looking up. 
 
 The woman caught up her hand-satchel and flounced 
 out of the shop in a temper, but had only proceeded a 
 yard or two when she discovered she had left her um- 
 brella behind, and she was therefore obliged to retrace 
 her steps to fetch it. As Tamar turned round and saw 
 her, she suddenly remembered that this little French 
 crucifix had been rejected by two or three people who 
 had been tempted to buy it, but had put it down directly 
 they had touched it. She recalled one man in par- 
 ticular. He had shrunk away with a look of positive 
 alarm on his face. 
 
 " Oh, no, no," he had exclaimed. " Something 
 wrong there something evil." 
 
 This thought flashed through her mind, and she de- 
 cided that it would be as well to get rid of it to some 
 one who, like this commonplace creature with the ear- 
 rings and without fine perceptions, would be impervious 
 to secret, subtle influences. 
 
 " You can have the crucifix for three pounds seven 
 and sixpence," she said sulkily, for she grudged the 
 concession whilst recognizing the wisdom which 
 prompted it. 
 
 " Indeed? " the woman said in surprise. " So you've 
 come down, have you? There must be some reason for 
 that. I'd like to look at it again and be sure." 
 
 Tamar handed it to her again. She turned it over, 
 examined it critically, seemed satisfied with the results 
 of her scrutiny, and showed no signs of alarm to T. 
 Scott, who was watching her face with lynx eyes. She 
 put the money on the counter. 
 
 " I can find nothing against it," she said thought-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 51 
 
 fully. " But there must be something, otherwise you 
 would never come down in this fashion." 
 
 T. Scott remained like a sphinx, voiceless, expres- 
 sionless. 
 
 " But I like it," the woman added. " I have looked 
 at it many times in your window. I will take it." 
 
 In silence Tamar watched her departure, and when 
 she, was alone, she said aloud: 
 
 " On the whole, good business. Three pounds seven 
 and six in pocket, and something of sinister influence 
 out of the shop. And this reminds me of that rococo 
 pendant brooch which scared some one a year or two 
 ago. I'd better part with that. Very strange, these * 
 influences. Curious and incomprehensible. But real. 
 And once or twice I have felt them myself. But only 
 once or twice. Once in Rothenburg, at that shop op- 
 posite the cathedral yes, I remember well it was a 
 little gold casket studded with emeralds. Spanish six- 
 teenth-century and . . ." 
 
 The door opened, and a very young airman leapt 
 in gaily. 
 
 " Hullo," he said, " so here you are in your own dug- 
 out. I'm awfully glad to see you." 
 
 Tamar laughed, and all irritating thoughts about 
 well-informed women with long earrings, all business 
 considerations and reflections on subtle and secret in- 
 fluences fell from her as a garment, for here was Tom 
 Thornton, and with him came a rush of strong fresh 
 air from the moors, a life-giving breath from the glacier 
 river, memories of unexpected comradeship won from 
 a purely business appointment, and a renewed exhilara- 
 tion emanating from the magic influence of youth. 
 
 " I'm delighted to see you in my dug-out," she said.
 
 52 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " And you're a flying man, surely, aren't you ? I 
 should have thought you were too young." 
 
 " I've told a lie about my age, realized my ambition 
 and got into the R.F.C. somehow," he said. " The 
 usual patriotic lie, you know. And the result is I'm 
 off to Oxford to the Officers' Cadet Battalion. Great, 
 isn't it! I've always been dead set on aviation. And 
 the Mater was such a trump about it. But, I say, what 
 a top-hole hunting ground for plunder you have here. 
 Talking about plunder, I turned Marton Grange 
 upside-down, inside-out, after you'd gone. And the 
 only treasures I found in a locked cash-box which 
 we had an awful time opening, were not pearls, nor 
 rubies, nor spinels but an old toothbrush and a 
 comb ! A sell, wasn't it ? " 
 
 Tamar laughed. 
 
 " I wish you could have seen me carrying that cash- 
 box in triumph to the Mater's room," he went on, " and 
 all the family following me in a solemn procession, and 
 Winifred with her nose in the air and pretending not 
 to care, except for * psychological reasons.' Then I 
 made them all guess what was in it. Rupert said Siam 
 or Montana sapphires he is always reading your 
 book and knows it by heart and Marion said dia- 
 monds. Winifred suggested pearls. The Mater 
 wouldn't guess. And I said alexandrite cat's-eye, as it 
 sounded rather swanky. Now, you would have guessed 
 toothbrush and comb, without any trouble, wouldn't 
 you? You'd have stuck to it through thick and thin 
 that no collection worthy of the name would have been 
 complete without those valuable varieties. And you 
 would have been right, as before." 
 
 " Come into the inner room," Tamar said, " and
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 53 
 
 we'll have some tea. And you must tell me about the 
 collection. I suppose by now all the stones have been 
 sold?" 
 
 " Nearly all except the four pearls," he said. 
 " They've been kept back for you to buy if you want 
 to. The Mater was very determined about that. We 
 all were. We'd have defended them from Christie's 
 with our lives. Rupert is coming up one day with 
 them. You're not going to be let alone by this family, 
 I can tell you. As far as I can make out, we're all 
 coming to camp here." 
 
 " So the pearls have been left for me to buy," Tamar 
 said, her eyes suddenly bright at the prospect of pos- 
 sessing them. " I call that very considerate." 
 
 " Well, you discovered them, in a sense? " Tom said. 
 " I think you ought to have had them for nothing." 
 
 " People don't give up valuable pearls for nothing," 
 Tamar remarked drily. " I wouldn't. But I'm very 
 glad to have the chance of buying them. I want them. 
 I wanted them from the moment I saw them. I shall 
 never forget . . ." 
 
 She broke off in time to prevent herself from speak- 
 ing of her midnight excursion, but Tom did not notice. 
 He was dashing about, looking now at this thing, now 
 at that. He took it entirely for granted that he might 
 make himself at home and that he was welcome. And 
 indeed, so he was. Treasures hitherto solemnly sacred 
 in Tamar's eyes, he treated with an easy familiarity 
 which only caused her amusement. His happiness and 
 high spirits gladdened her heart and quickened her 
 steps as she set about preparing the tea; but he was 
 with her instantly, snatching up the tea-tray from the 
 kitchen table and rushing with it into the inner room
 
 54 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 with an impetus which augured peril for some of the 
 valuable old china lying about in a sequestered security 
 hitherto unchallenged. 
 
 Over tea, T. Scott learnt the news of the family. 
 Marion had become a nursing orderly in one of the 
 Military Hospitals in London. Winifred had joined 
 the Women Police Service. Rupert was trying to ar- 
 range Mr. Thornton's archaeological notes and com- 
 plete his father's unfinished book. Mrs. Thornton was 
 making comforts for the mine-sweepers, at Marton 
 Grange. But the house was soon going to be shut up, 
 and she was coming to London and was going to do 
 needlework at a Red Cross depot. 
 
 " Isn't it sporting of her? " Tom said. " She has 
 bucked up tremendously lately. All our sweet relations 
 are rather shocked at her, and think she ought to be 
 passing her time behind the cambric handkerchief. But 
 I'm glad she doesn't. And she has been simply ripping 
 about us all. She didn't seem to mind how many lies I 
 told to get into the running at once ; and when I said it 
 was the Flying Corps I'd set my heart on, she seemed 
 frightfully pleased, and said that would have been her 
 choice, and that she would be proud to have an airman 
 in the family. She said we were all to be free, and that 
 it was time parents left off being keepers of gaols from 
 which their children longed to escape. Very decent of 
 her, wasn't it, and cunning too? For, of course, the 
 result was that no one really wanted to leave her when 
 it came to the point." 
 
 So he rattled on, telling her details of his plans and 
 prospects as if she had been a family friend who would 
 naturally be interested in all he had to say; and the 
 odd part was that Tamar, who had never before con-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 55 
 
 cerned herself with the weal or woe of any people she 
 had met in the course of business, listened to Tom, not 
 with mere indulgence because she liked him, but with the 
 settled attentiveness of some one who had the affairs of 
 the family at heart. 
 
 Once or twice it struck her how absurd it was that she 
 should be giving even a moment's consideration to the 
 lives of these strangers of Marton Grange; but the 
 thought was immediately demolished by a settled convic- 
 tion that they were not strangers, and that ridiculous 
 though it was, she had been knitted to them by the 
 happenings of those two nights spent beneath their 
 roof. 
 
 Tom's description of Winifred as a policewoman 
 amused her immensely. Oh, yes, he said, she was the 
 right type. Very smart and capable she looked in her 
 neat uniform, and with all the virtues of all the centuries 
 and of all the nations written large on her sensible coun- 
 tenance. Burglars and murderers, and all disorderly 
 people, male and female, would certainly tremble before 
 her. She had even intimidated Aunt Theresa, who had 
 dared to assert that the jewels had got into their heads 
 and that they were not mourning in the proper and 
 accepted manner for the poor old Governor. Wini- 
 fred's eye, with the help of her uniform, had quelled her 
 in no time. A mighty useful thing having police offi- 
 cers in the. family. Still more useful too if they had the 
 power to arrest and detain all troublesome relatives. 
 Jolly good way of stopping all interfering and mischief- 
 making. 
 
 TLamar asked about Marion. Oh, Marion was all 
 right, but she had been a bit odd about the jewels. No 
 one had been able to induce her to annex any of them,
 
 56 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 either the valuable or the inferior ones, for her own 
 personal adornment. Now he, personally, would have 
 liked Marion to have chosen the best diamond, emerald, 
 ruby, pearl, sapphire and opal, and strung them all 
 through her nose if she'd wanted to. But she didn't 
 want to. She stuck to it that she would rather have 
 had one poor little stone given direct by the old Gov- 
 ernor than a whole lot from his collection now that he 
 was dead. She did not wish anything kept back for her 
 and unsold. This was the one and only occasion on 
 which the Mater had shown any inclination to return 
 to the embraces of the cambric handkerchief. Winifred 
 had explained Marion's attitude as being a " psycho- 
 logical consequence " ; and as no one knew what that 
 meant, it had an instantly exhilarating effect on every 
 one, including Marion herself! Of course, as he had 
 pointed out, it was all the better for them if Marion 
 did not want any private plunder, though she would 
 have been welcome to it. But he thought that one day, 
 not now, but later, when the psychological consequence 
 had sort of died down a bit, he would like to buy a little 
 jewel for her and give it to her direct. He could buy 
 it from this very dug-out. He could choose something 
 choice out of that safe, for instance, or perhaps out of 
 a dummy encyclopaedia. Had Miss Scott one? Poor 
 old Governor. He didn't really want to make fun of 
 him, or be disrespectful to the dead. But he had been a 
 queer one, top hole queer. Well, there was no know- 
 ing, perhaps he himself might develop into the same sort 
 of character. If he did not get killed in the war, per- 
 haps he too would collect precious stones and hide them 
 somewhere. It was evidently in the blood. There was 
 a family legend that his great-great-grandfather on the
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 57 
 
 paternal side had collected spear-heads or something, 
 and his great-grandfather rubies. There was no doubt 
 about the legend, but what had become of the rubies? 
 That was what he would like to know. 
 
 His words :" If I don't get killed in the war," spoken 
 so lightly, and yet charged with every possibility of 
 fulfilment, sent a chill through T. Scott's heart, and 
 conjured up a picture to her of young lives, gay, high- 
 spirited, light-hearted young creatures like this Tom 
 Thornton, cut down in their early days of splendour, 
 wiped off from the face of the earth thousands of 
 them, tens of thousands of them. Up to now their fate 
 had not concerned her at all, and the ever-lengthening 
 casualty lists in the newspapers had been of less mo- 
 ment to her than the items of an auction sale at Chris- 
 tie's. Her view, vaguely outlined to herself, was that 
 if people went to war, they must expect to get killed. 
 It was a pity, but inevitable. 
 
 But she did not like to hear Tom hint at it, however 
 casually. She frowned, stared in front of her, fidgeted, 
 became immersed in thought, and finally nodded as if 
 she had taken a decision of some importance. And it 
 was important to her, for Tamar hated parting with 
 the very least of her private and personal possessions, 
 and she had determined to give this boy one of her most 
 cherished treasures an amulet supposed to be en- 
 dowed with special protective virtues, and handed down 
 to her from that mother whom she had adored. Very 
 slowly, very reluctantly she went upstairs to her room 
 to fetch it. Very slowly, very reluctantly she returned 
 with it, and then, with face averted, as if she could not 
 bear to be a witness of what she was doing, she held it 
 out to him. It was a carved ruby mounted as a little
 
 58 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 square pendant in gold and turquoise. It was Bur- 
 mese, and said to be very old. 
 
 "For me?" he asked, blushing. "Oh, I say, how 
 ripping of you. A sort of talisman, isn't it? I know 
 the sort of thing." 
 
 " Against all dangers of the elements," she said in a 
 low, chanting voice, as if she were a priestess of old 
 performing some sacred rite, *' against fire and water 
 and earth and air, against all dangers, known and un- 
 known, of all the elements, fire and water and earth and 
 air." 
 
 She swayed gently to and fro to the rhythm of the 
 words she uttered. The boy watched her in silence, 
 caught suddenly by the solemnity, the mystic imperson- 
 ality of her bearing. He told his mother afterwards 
 that he had felt a bit nervy as if spells were being 
 woven around him, but that he would not part with that 
 funny little old talisman for anything on earth. 
 
 But he did not, of course, know the nature of the 
 sacrifice Tamar had made for him, nor the symbolism 
 of her deed of gift. He was the representative to her 
 imagination, suddenly awakened, of all the young boys 
 at the front, or destined for the front, all in peril, and 
 all in need of protection. And the talisman was offered 
 to them, through him. 
 
 After he had gone, T. Scott, needless to say, had an 
 acute attack of regret over her unnecessary anxiety on 
 behalf of these boys taking part in the war, and over 
 her entirely absurd generosity in giving away that 
 much valued amulet. It danced before her eyes chal- 
 lengingly, tantalizingly, and she felt almost driven to 
 follow Tom and demand it back immediately. But at
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 59 
 
 least she had the decency to recognize that she could not 
 demean herself in that fashion, and that the only thing 
 to do was to bear her loss until she got accustomed to 
 it. 
 
 Regret and resignation landed her, however, in a 
 very bad temper, and when some unfortunate custom- 
 ers came into the shop, a mild old gentleman and a still 
 milder old lady, she was so rude and uncompromising 
 in her manner that they withdrew in alarm, the mild old 
 gentleman saying quietly as he opened the door and 
 was safely on the threshold : 
 
 " We came to buy, Madam, not to be insulted." 
 
 Tamar only glared at him, and after their departure 
 was increasingly annoyed with herself for having lost 
 the chance of doing business with some one who bore 
 every sign, well known to her by long experience, of a 
 person whom she could have cheated comfortably, prof- 
 itably and expeditiously. So that when Christopher 
 Bramfield, her friend, the diamond merchant, arrived, 
 he found her in one of her most disagreeable moods. 
 She nodded sulkily, but took no further notice of him. 
 He sat down by the counter and waited in silence, and 
 with a half smile on his face ; for he had seen her often 
 in this unamiable frame of mind, and was not perturbed 
 or angered, but only gently amused. Besides, she would 
 not have been T. Scott if she had lost her power of being 
 sulky, sullen, rude, unfriendly, hostile. 
 
 " T. Scott," he said, after a period of ten minutes or 
 so, " I called in partly to tell you of some wonderful sil- 
 ver I've heard of in Holland, at a place called Egmond 
 op den Hoof, near Alkmaar, which you ought to go and 
 see without delay. And I also wanted to proffer my 
 usual request, Tamar, that you would change your
 
 60 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 mind and marry your old friend. But I mtist own that 
 I don't appear to have struck on an auspicious day. 
 So I think I'll defer that matter. You know perfectly 
 well that I have loved you for years, and have always 
 wanted you to share with me my life and my fortune. 
 There the matter can rest at least for today." 
 
 Tamar made no sign. 
 
 "What's wrong with you? " he asked. " Have you 
 been doing bad business ? " 
 
 She continued faking up a rococo brooch as if no one 
 were addressing her. 
 
 " Very interesting about the Thornton jewel collec- 
 tion, isn't it ? " he continued cheerfully. " I don't know 
 when I've heard such a curious story, nor been so 
 pleased about anything. A nice family, and no mis- 
 take. Four magnificent pearls have been preserved 
 for you to buy. If you don't want them, T. Scott, I 
 should like them for one of my clients." 
 
 " You can't have them," Tamar snapped out. 
 
 " Ah," he said, with a laugh, " I thought that would 
 wake you up. All the same, I should like them. And 
 I made a handsome offer for them, too. But that 
 young fellow, and, indeed, all the family, seemed pre- 
 pared to defend them with their lives. You've won 
 those people, Tamar. They think you are so kind and 
 amiable. Well, of course you are when you choose, 
 aren't you? We all know that." 
 
 A faint smile stole over Tamar's face. 
 
 " You can't have the pearls," she repeated. " And 
 as for marrying you, Bramfield, you have heard my an- 
 swer often enough, and why you continue asking me 
 every year is more than I understand." 
 
 " It is more than I understand myself," Bramfield an-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 61 
 
 swered, staring at the ground. Then he added in an 
 entirely business-like manner, as if dismissing peremp- 
 torily all personal affairs : 
 
 " Well, you mustn't miss this chance in Holland. 
 Submarines or no submarines, mines or no mines, you 
 must go to Alkmaar and secure some of the good things 
 left by old Herr Maas. I believe there are several spe- 
 cially fine nefs. Think of that. It's a rare opportu- 
 nity, as you have always been dead set on Dutch ships. 
 And there is no time to lose. I only heard the news 
 today, but others will soon learn it, so we ought to be 
 off at once as soon as we can get permits. I'm going 
 to Amsterdam on business, and also I have to go to Rot- 
 terdam in connection with that American Commission 
 for the Relief of Belgium I've told you of. You'll come 
 there, too, won't you? It's a wonderful work, that. 
 You ought to see something of it." 
 
 " Why should I? " she asked sulkily. 
 
 " Jewels of another kind, Tamar," he said gently. 
 " Cargoes of real treasure in the Relief Ships food 
 for starving people." 
 
 " That wouldn't necessarily interest me," she said, 
 shrugging her shoulders. 
 
 " No, I don't suppose it would, now I come to think 
 of it," he said with a smile which had some wistfulness 
 in it. " Well, you could knock out Rotterdam. 
 And in any case, you'll see my friend, Miss Linton, who 
 is helping with the refugees at Flushing. I rather think 
 you would like her. She does put her heart into her 
 job." 
 
 " Does she ? " said Tamar with indifference. 
 
 And she added: 
 
 " I don't know that I want to go to Holland just at
 
 62 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 present. Are you absolutely sure that the nefs are 
 exceptionally fine? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " absolutely sure. Make up 
 your mind to come, Tamar, and be pleasant about it. 
 We'll have a nice outing, and it will do you good to get 
 away. All sorts of things are happening in the outside 
 world, and you are caged up here as if you were a pris- 
 oner." 
 
 Tamar looked up. 
 
 " I don't mind telling you, Bramfield, that I've felt a 
 little like that lately," she said. 
 
 " I'm delighted to hear it," he said as he rose to go. 
 " You think it over and let me know what you decide, 
 and I'll make all the arrangements. I had a letter from 
 Bruce today. He's all right and in good spirits. 
 Such a relief to my mind." 
 
 " Poor old Bramfield," Tamar said with sudden kind- 
 ness, her face taking on an expression which made her 
 look beautiful. " I'm glad you have had good news 
 from your boy." 
 
 His own face lit up with pleasure at the change in 
 her. 
 
 " Bruce has been mentioned twice in Dispatches now," 
 he said proudly. " Lucky young devil to be able to 
 fight for his country. One of the First Hundred Thou- 
 sand, Tamar, one of the First Hundred Thousand. 
 Nothing can take that from him or me." 
 
 He looked a proud figure of a man as he stood for a 
 moment by the counter. Tall, refined, and almost hand- 
 some in feature, and with bright eyes that could dance 
 in merriment, and a spirit that was informed with chiv- 
 alry, and a restless energy that had something boyish in 
 it, Bramfield was a most engaging personality. He did
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 63 
 
 not look his fifty-seven years, for his hair had refused 
 to accept more than a mere sprinkling of grey, and his 
 heart would never have been able to grow old. It ever 
 renewed itself to meet the demands made on it by count- 
 less people and countless things. And he was constant 
 obstinately so. He had been a widower for about 
 sixteen years, and certainly for ten years he had been 
 trying to win Tamar, and without much encouragement, 
 if indeed, with any. It was surprising she did not en- 
 courage him surprising sometimes even to herself. 
 
 Some such thought passed through her mind when he 
 had gone. She sat for a long time wondering why she 
 could not bring herself to give up her liberty and marry 
 him. Then her thoughts turned to business. He was 
 right in saying that she ought not to miss the opportu- 
 nity of securing those Dutch nefs. She had always had 
 a great liking for them, and had never failed to find 
 them a profitable investment. Perhaps she would go to 
 Holland. Yes, she would. It would do her good to 
 leave the shop for a little while. Bramfield was right 
 again about that. It did seem a prison sometimes. Its 
 walls, more than once lately, had seemed to press closely 
 round her, limiting her breathing space and her outlook. 
 She remembered that this idea had occurred to her on 
 the far-stretching moors at Lallington. The moors in- 
 stantly recalled to her Marton Grange, the Thorntons, 
 Tom and the amulet. 
 
 Yes, she must battle with her regret in having parted 
 with the amulet* For it was sacred, mystic. To im- 
 pair by wrong thought the power of its protectiveness 
 was an act of profanity at which she might well shud- 
 der. 
 
 So Tamar wrestled with her difficult temperament,
 
 64. WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 suffered, won through by heroic persistence of good in- 
 tention, and reached the stage of peace and imperson- 
 ality when she could once more with solemn dedication 
 repeat the words: 
 
 " Against all dangers of the elements, against fire and 
 water and earth and air, against all dangers, known and 
 unknown, of all the elements, fire and water and earth 
 and air."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 TWO or three days before Tamar went to Holland, 
 Rupert Thornton came to the shop and received 
 from her the same kindly welcome which she had ac- 
 corded to Tom. As he did not mention the pearls, she 
 forbore from alluding to them, although thinking of 
 them all the time, and with a heartache to have them 
 safely in her possession. 
 
 Instead of betraying her excitement, she suppressed 
 it by her remarkable self-control. She showed him 
 some of her precious stones in her safe and some of her 
 other treasures, such as Limoges enamels, Battersea 
 enamels, snuff-boxes, bonbonnieres, George II silver, 
 rat-tailed table-spoons, and a Charles I small silver-gilt 
 bowl. One of the snuff-boxes, of Siberian onyx, French 
 eighteenth century, greatly took his fancy, and he 
 learnt from her that the South Kensington Museum 
 wanted it from her and would never get it. She showed 
 him choice bits of china, Chelsea, Bow, Derby, and 
 Derby-Chelsea figures, some exquisite little Chelsea 
 scent-bottles modelled as hens and chickens, and lovely 
 specimens of Spode and Worcester and Chinese. He 
 was so genuinely interested in everything she brought 
 to his notice and all she told him, that it was a pleasure 
 to take the trouble on his behalf. And he was posi- 
 tively thrilled when he saw the original costly plates of 
 the illustrations to her book on Precious Stones. 
 
 Perhaps Tamar gave herself all the more pains to 
 please him because she remembered with some lingering 
 
 65
 
 66 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 uneasiness the scorn of his manner that morning at 
 Marton Grange, when she suddenly stipulated for an in- 
 crease of her fee. She had had every right to look after 
 her own interests, of course, and his attitude of mind 
 on the occasion had been unwarranted and impertinent. 
 Yet she had not been able to dismiss entirely its effect 
 on her. Even now she found herself vaguely hoping 
 that she might behave with a decent amount of restraint 
 and a minimum of avariciousness if it came to a ques- 
 tion of doing business with him in connection with those 
 coveted pearls. She could not have explained to her- 
 self why she, usually entirely regardless of any criti- 
 cisms passed on her, should care in this special instance 
 to win a good opinion, or at least not to hazard a bad 
 one. 
 
 But the truth was that she realized dimly that here 
 was some one who had faced large issues, had been swept 
 off from a plane where details mattered, personal con- 
 siderations counted, and who had found a footing in a 
 realm where new values, different proportions, had the 
 effect of changing the old currency into something base 
 and useless and grotesque. Yes, that was how Rupert 
 Thornton would probably regard her driving instinct 
 for good business. She was determined to protect her- 
 self from the discomfort of further scorn, however 
 slight, however involuntary. She made up her mind to 
 offer for the pearls three hundred pounds over and 
 above the figure quoted for probate, which she remem- 
 bered was two thousand pounds. 
 
 "They're worth it," she said. "I shall get the 
 money back. And there is my pride. I suppose that 
 is worth something." 
 
 And then she laughed aloud, for it was certainly the
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 67 
 
 first time in her business career that T. Scott had ever 
 yielded an inch of ground to such an alien attribute of 
 her character as her pride. 
 
 " Why are you laughing? " Rupert asked. " I sup- 
 pose I made a bad shot at the age of this bonbonniere 
 you call it, don't you ? " 
 
 "You were only a century out," Tamar said. 
 " That's nothing of a mistake for an amateur." 
 
 " Well, there's one thing, I soon shan't be an amateur 
 if I go on learning about antiques at this rate," he said, 
 smiling. " You really have been ripping to me. It 
 has made me forget everything all the things I 
 wanted to forget, you know and, by Jove, I've for- 
 gotten about those pearls, too " 
 
 " Ah," said Tamar, innocently and with a detached 
 manner, " the pearls." 
 
 But her heart gave a bound as he took a little packet 
 from his waistcoat pocket and laid it on the table. It 
 was all she could do to prevent herself from snatching 
 it up. And, indeed, if Rupert had been observant, he 
 would have noticed that her hands were trembling as he 
 opened the packet and displayed the four pearls. 
 
 At first she did not touch them, nor did she speak a 
 word. She simply gazed at them, feasted on their 
 beauty, their delicate pale-pink colour, marvelled at 
 their lustre, their texture, worshipped them as objects 
 worthy of adoration, in an ecstasy entirely divorced 
 from any thought of gain and profit and material ad- 
 vantage. Other thoughts would come, of course, and 
 quickly too; but Tamar's first sensation on seeing any 
 precious stones was invariably pure and passionate joy 
 in their mysterious beauty, even as a worshipper of Na- 
 ture might revel in the glories of a sunrise, the mists
 
 68 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 lifting over the mountains, the moon casting its silver 
 radiance on the sea. 
 
 At last the spell was broken. Ecstasy gave way to 
 business. Pride was forgotten. Greed stepped in. 
 She resolved to depreciate them and try and secure 
 them for as little as possible. She examined them, and 
 after another period of silence said in that dreamy tone 
 of voice she always used when she was beginning to de- 
 ceive and cheat: 
 
 "Your father's judgment, excellent though it was, 
 seems to me to have been a little at fault in the case of 
 these pearls." 
 
 "At fault?" Rupert asked in surprise. "Why, I 
 understood that they were peerless. Mr. Bramfield 
 thought so when he saw them." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean to say that they are not exceed- 
 ingly beautiful," T. Scott went on unperturbed. " But 
 if your father had known a little more about pearls, 
 he might perhaps have rejected this one, for instance, 
 having regard to the fact that he evidently had his 
 mind bent on acquiring perfect specimens. You know, 
 it is quite possible to be an expert in precious stones, 
 and yet have no discrimination where pearls are con- 
 cerned. My friend Bramfield is a case in point. He 
 knows something about them, of course, knows a great 
 deal about them, but not everything. I suppose he told 
 you that this one was equal to the others ? " 
 
 " He said when I saw him the other day that there 
 was nothing to choose between the four of them," Ru- 
 pert answered quietly. 
 
 " Exactly," Tamar said with a slight smile. " But 
 I don't take his view at all. They are all very lovely. 
 But I personally would put the greatest value on these
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 69 
 
 two, the next on this one, and certainly the least on 
 the fourth. The fourth is considerably inferior in deli- 
 cacy of colour and in lustre to the others. It may have 
 deteriorated with age." 
 
 " Perhaps, after all, you wouldn't care to buy 
 them ? " Rupert asked, entirely dashed by her criticism 
 and want of enthusiasm. 
 
 " Oh, yes," T. Scott answered indifferently. " Oh, 
 jes." 
 
 She closed her eyes and appeared to be making some 
 calculations. At last she said: 
 
 " But owing to the comparative inferiority of the 
 fourth, I don't see my way to offer more than two thou- 
 sand pounds for them." 
 
 "Two thousand pounds?" Rupert repeated slowly, 
 as if asking a question. He raised his eyebrows, 
 coughed a little, fidgeted with his stick, and seemed al- 
 together embarrassed. Then he took courage and said 
 courteously : 
 
 " We could not let you have them for two thousand 
 pounds. We have had several better offers than that. 
 I can't tell you how sorry I am to refuse your offer, but 
 I have to consider our family interests. It is a brutal 
 thing to say, but, after all. one can't give away a large 
 sum of money just because " 
 
 He hesitated a moment, and added bravely : 
 
 " Because you happened to come and bring us good 
 news. That is, of course, what one would like to do 
 indeed, give them away altogether. But one cannot." 
 
 " Two thousand one hundred, then," Tamar said, ig- 
 noring his remarks, and suddenly seized with the fear of 
 losing the pearls altogether. 
 
 He shook his head. His face had clouded over, and
 
 70 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 the increase of her offer had evidently annoyed rather 
 than tempted him. He replaced the pearls in the case. 
 
 " You'll excuse me if I tell you that I did not come 
 here to bargain with you," he said, with a slight smile 
 which was not pleasant. " That's not in my line at all. 
 I brought the pearls simply to fulfil our promise of giv- 
 ing you the opportunity of securing them, if you wished, 
 at a price which would not put us at too great a disad- 
 vantage. But your offer falls several hundred pounds 
 short of what we are entitled to expect. Well, that 
 ends the matter." 
 
 Rage at having made the mistake of reckoning on his 
 acquiescence, fury at the prospect of losing the sea- 
 gems on which she had set her heart, drove Tamar to an 
 indiscretion which she regretted immediately after- 
 wards. 
 
 " Bargaining with you," she hissed out. " Rather 
 call it bestowing money on you. Why, I could have 
 taken the pearls if I'd wanted to, and no one would have 
 been the wiser. I found them. I knew they were there. 
 No one else knew." 
 
 " You knew they were there" he repeated, starting 
 back. " How did you know ? And if you knew, why 
 didn't you tell us?" 
 
 Tamar did not answer. She leaned forward, her arm 
 resting on the counter in her favourite position, her eyes 
 staring straight in front of her, and her mind riveted 
 on the fact that she had been a fool to commit herself 
 and put herself in the power of any one to doubt her, 
 suspect her and condemn her. In that brief interval 
 her brain tried to find a way of escape from her di- 
 lemma, but without success. She realized that she 
 would either have to remain silent or speak the truth.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 71 
 
 Which should it be? She did not often speak the 
 truth, the whole truth, but here was a case in which only 
 the whole truth would suffice. And there was a chance 
 that the young man who had vision, might understand 
 if she told him the entire story, without reservations. 
 Yes, having got herself into this complication, it would 
 undoubtedly be better for her to be frank ; but even at 
 this critical moment it struck Tamar as being grimly 
 humorous that she, of all people, should be forced to 
 frankness by an embarrassing situation created by her- 
 self and no one else. The pearls, beautiful though they 
 were and of a liquid loveliness such as one might dream 
 of with rapture, were not worth this annoyance ; neither 
 were the five or six hundred pounds which she had hoped 
 to lop off easily from their price. Ah, how would it be 
 if she were to offer him two thousand six hundred 
 pounds now or even seven hundred a large sum of 
 money a cruel outlay but at least a useful one 
 the price of not placing oneself in another person's 
 power. And she would get the money back. Yes, she 
 might try this means before she resorted to frankness. 
 
 But when she looked up and saw the expression of 
 quiet determination on his face, Tamar recognized that 
 he meant to have his answer, and that no bribe of money 
 would influence him. 
 
 " I repeat my words," he said. " How did you 
 know? And if you knew, why didn't you tell us? " 
 
 Tamar sighed, and with that sigh capitulated to cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 " If you'll sit down and not stand over me menacing 
 as though I were a German prisoner, I will tell you," 
 she said in a low voice. 
 
 He relaxed and sank into the chair. Tamar, still
 
 72 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 bending over the counter, told Rupert the whole story. 
 She omitted nothing. She closed her eyes, shut out the 
 world, opened her soul. Rupert, hostile at first and 
 shocked at her exhibition of greed and her deliberate 
 attempt to cheat him, soon lost all sense of animosity, 
 and was caught by the interest of the psychology which 
 unfolded itself as she proceeded with her narrative. 
 
 He learnt again that it was the absence of the spinels 
 which made her feel entirely certain that there were 
 other jewels concealed in some other hiding-place. In 
 Nature, the spinel dwelt side by side with its patrician 
 relative, the ruby, and no collector with enthusiasm for 
 his subject would dream of excluding the poorer con- 
 nection, which, moreover, was a most interesting stone 
 in itself. He heard how with this idea burnt into her 
 brain, she fell asleep, and in her dreams held inter- 
 course with his father. And what more natural? 
 They were jewel lovers, both of them. Their minds 
 were one. Their spirits were in sympathy. Almost 
 had she invoked him by her understanding of him, by her 
 interpretation of him. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I believe that," Rupert said, stirred to n^s 
 inmost soul. " If we can reach them at all, it can only 
 be by the larger knowledge of them which only seems to 
 come through death." 
 
 And after that, he followed her breathlessly down the 
 stairs, through the hall, into the library. He knelt with 
 her beside the Bible box, and with her, hesitated to open 
 it lest it might contain nothing to offer except a dis- 
 appointment of hopes, and then with her, suddenly un- 
 fastened the unlocked clasp and took out the flame-red 
 spinel, and the rose-pink beryl all the stones and the
 
 73 
 
 pearls those four pearls of magic beauty, those sea- 
 gems of wondrous lustre. 
 
 With her, he passed through an ecstasy of joy over 
 the beauty of them, the wonder of them, the mystery of 
 them. He, too, desired to possess them, to steal them. 
 Why not ? No one would know. The house asleep 
 no sound except the raging of the wind. The oppor- 
 tunity of a lifetime almost a permission given by the 
 dead. Why not? 
 
 With her, he resisted, painfully, reluctantly, with the 
 utmost difficulty ; with her, he restacked the newspapers 
 and books on the top of the Bible box. With her he 
 fled from the room before the temptation had time to re- 
 assert itself. 
 
 Tamar ceased, and her listener leaned back in the 
 chair and drew a long breath. 
 
 " Now you know what I mean when I say I could 
 have had the pearls for nothing," she said, after a long 
 pause. 
 
 He inclined his head as if in assent. 
 
 " I resolved not to speak of my search," she contin- 
 ued after another pause. " No one would believe that 
 I had not stolen, if not the pearls well, some other 
 stones. I should not believe it of any one myself. I 
 wished to protect myself by silence, and I should have 
 continued to protect myself if I had not made the blun- 
 der." 
 
 She broke off, for he got up suddenly and stood be- 
 fore her, with his hand stretched out for her to grasp. 
 
 " I believe you," he said kindly. " Indeed, I believe 
 you. And as for the blunder and everything else 
 well, what does it matter? Let's wipe out the re-
 
 74 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 membrance of it and begin again. Do you still want 
 the pearls?" 
 
 " I shall always want them," Tamar answered. " I 
 might not see them for ten years, for twenty years, and 
 yet I should know them anywhere and always desire 
 them, as much, even more, as when I found them, alone, 
 in the silence of the night." 
 
 It crossed his mind that he ought to let her have them 
 at her own price. And then as suddenly the thought 
 presented itself that he would be offering her an indig- 
 nity by making any concession to her in return for her 
 frank confession and for her resistance to temptation. 
 So instead, he told her again that she could still have 
 them when she wanted them for two thousand, seven 
 hundred pounds. In her shame she was grateful to him 
 for not having offered her any easier terms. Her greed 
 made way for her pale ghost of pride which she had 
 hustled out and Rupert had beckoned in. She never 
 forgot that. 
 
 " Thank you," she said gently. " I accept your 
 offer. And I thank you still more for your words of 
 belief and trust and your chivalry. It is chivalry." 
 
 " Is it? " he said with a laugh. " Oh, no, nothing as 
 grand as that." 
 
 And with that same repudiation of unimportances 
 which she had noticed in him before, he swept the sordid 
 part of the incident on one side. 
 
 " In your dream," he said, " you've held communion 
 with my father. I wish I had had that luck. I have 
 never yet dreamed of him since he died. But I'm going 
 to tell you something that I've never told any one 
 not even the girl I'm engaged to. I haven't spoken 
 much of my experiences at the front. One cannot.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 75 
 
 Partly one wants to forget. One has to if one is 
 going to keep sane." 
 
 He paused a moment, wrinkled his brow as if remon- 
 strating with himself, and then went on: . : 
 
 " We were on the Aisne. We'd just about reached 
 the German trenches, when I was caught by an explosive 
 bullet in my left leg, and that did for me. Our fellows 
 were driven back again, and I was left behind. I was 
 too near the enemy trenches to be noticed. I was right 
 up against his barbed wire. I managed to creep into 
 a shell hole about ten yards off, and there I lay for four 
 days in No Man's Land, with nothing to eat and noth- 
 ing to drink, for by some mischance I hadn't even got 
 my water-bottle on. I gave first aid to myself, of 
 course, and did what I could for myself, but I was 
 pretty bad, and suffered a good deal and lost strength. 
 I knew that if I could not manage to save myself, I 
 probably couldn't be saved, as I wasn't likely to be 
 found right out there in No Man's Land. I was not 
 unconscious any of the time. And I didn't think about 
 anything much except how to keep my senses. I sort 
 of f ocussed on that endurance, you know, dogged 
 patience, stubbornness I don't know what you call 
 it. I said to myself a thousand times : * If I keep my 
 wits about me, I may save myself. If I lose them, I'm 
 done for.' ' 
 
 He paused again, and Tamar stirred in her chair. 
 She glanced at the pearls after which she had been han- 
 kering with an inordinate greed, and they seemed to her 
 like dross. 
 
 " You'll wonder why I am boring you with all this," 
 he said, " but I'm coming to the point now. My 
 thoughts did not turn to my home and my home people
 
 76 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 except once. If I thought of anything at all except 
 what I've told you, it was about my comrades, how 
 they'd got on and about our guns, and about the mad- 
 ness and silliness of nations killing each other off at the 
 beck and call of kings and politicians. I do remember 
 that crossing my mind once or twice. But when I was 
 at my lowest, and was about to give in, I suppose, a 
 curious thing happened to me: I heard my father call 
 me distinctly. And a great and sudden yearning came 
 over me to see him again. I had always loved and ad- 
 mired my father, and would have liked to be nearer to 
 him. But he was a strange being, given over entirely 
 to his archaeology, as we thought, and he wasn't very 
 much interested in his children. Marion was the one 
 who was most intimate with him. But on the rare occa- 
 sions when he was willing to be bothered with my com- 
 panionship and called out for me to go on the moors 
 with him, I was ready enough, ,1 can tell you. And I 
 was ready enough when I heard him in No Man's Land 
 calling to me so clearly. So I gathered together my 
 last remaining bit of strength and courage, and began 
 to crawl to our own trenches. It took me three days 
 to reach them. I came in at dawn. When I was within 
 a hundred yards of them, the stretcher-bearers saw me 
 and got me. But if it hadn't been for my father 
 well, I shouldn't be here. That was communion of some 
 kind, wasn't it? And from all I can gather, it took 
 place just about the time he nearly died. He rallied 
 for a time, it appears, and lived a few weeks longer. 
 And now I ask myself, have I lost the old father for 
 ever, or have I just begun to find him, the barrier of life 
 being broken down, and the secret of his temperament 
 disclosed and explained by you? For you have ex-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 77 
 
 plained a good deal, interpreted, alleviated, reconciled. 
 I feel enormously grateful to you. I want you to know 
 that. It is because of this that I wished to tell you 
 about No Man's Land." 
 
 He ceased. Tamar did not utter a word. The bare 
 tale, with all the things it left unsaid, the record in 
 some respects perhaps of thousands, gripped her, 
 clutched her. The battlefield, modern warfare with all 
 its fearful developments, suffering, helplessness, de- 
 spair, endurance, courage, hope, pluck, failing strength, 
 a dying down of resistance and then at the last a 
 spiritual rally, an answer to the last call of some one 
 loved and looked up to though almost inaccessible 
 and yet potent and powerful in the hour of need. 
 
 When at length Tamar spoke, it was almost in a whis- 
 per. 
 
 " Surely," she said, " it is that you have only begun 
 to find him. Life is the great barrier not death. 
 At least, that is my own secret experience." 
 
 She packed up the pearls and handed the little parcel 
 to him. 
 
 " Take them away and keep them a while," she said. 
 " I shall still want them, and will buy them from you 
 at their proper value. But not now. For the moment 
 they appear to me worthless, and worthless all the pre- 
 cious stones stored up for us by Nature in rock or gravel 
 bed rubies, diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, opals 
 aU of them." 
 
 And alone, she faced her greed, and was bowed with 
 shame.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TWO or three days after the episode of the pearls, 
 T. Scott and Bramfield went to Holland. T. 
 Scott's last day was a busy one. Sellers or buyers 
 came in an endless procession, and when she made up her 
 books that night, she purred over the discovery that, 
 regarded from every aspect, it was one of the most sat- 
 isfactory business days ever experienced in the shop in 
 Dean Street. For she had acquired fresh stock at ex- 
 ceptionally low prices, and got rid of many objects of 
 inferior value at refreshingly high rates. Not once 
 had she made a mistake. Not once had she yielded a 
 point. She had, in fact, been at her commercial best, 
 and had entirely recovered from that passing attack of 
 madness when pearls and precious stones had appeared 
 to her as so much dross, worthless, despicable. 
 
 Rupert Thornton was her last visitor, and he came 
 neither to buy nor sell. He brought his fiancee, Doro- 
 thy Hall, to present to Tamar, and perhaps that 
 pleased her more than anything that had happened to 
 her for a long time. For it showed that he had for- 
 given her and did not despise her. And probably he 
 meant her to understand his visit in that way. 
 
 " This is my wife-to-be, T. Scott," he said proudly. 
 " * Chauffeuse * in the Motor Ambulance Section of the 
 First Aid Nursing Yeomanry Corps, known as the 
 * F.A.N.Y.'s.' When she has a little time to spare, we 
 
 are going to get married on the strength of all the jew- 
 
 78
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 79 
 
 els which turned up unexpectedly. Ripping, isn't it? " 
 
 Tamar nodded. She liked the look of the young 
 woman in khaki uniform. She had seen women in in- 
 creasing numbers in uniform in the streets, but had not 
 taken any interest in them. She understood vaguely 
 that they were the outcome of the war, and were doing 
 new things ; but as the war was not her concern, the 
 various changes and innovations taking place in rapid 
 succession around her had impressed her surprisingly, 
 contemptibly little. Now she was brought into direct 
 contact for the first time with a materialized specimen 
 of a new type, and her mind, ready enough for impres- 
 sions when she chose, leapt out to meet the occasion. 
 
 " Ambulance chauffeuse," she said, in a tone of voice 
 which evinced friendly interest but no surprise. " Well, 
 you look ready enough for anything." 
 
 "I am," Dorothy Hall laughed. "Like all the 
 women, if the Government would only use us. However, 
 they will have to in time. And meanwhile we are train- 
 ing." 
 
 Tamar learnt that the corps, rejected, of course, by 
 the English Government, had offered its services to the 
 Belgians, and had worked for them ever since. The 
 girl had been attached to the corps from the beginning, 
 but had come home for a few weeks to collect money 
 for supplving clothing, comforts and dressings for the 
 men, and also for running a convalescent home for ty- 
 phoids. She was off again shortly. Their command- 
 ant had all sorts of schemes on hand, and she was hop- 
 ing to have a very much larger fleet of motor ambu- 
 lances to proceed to the front and carry wounded 
 from the advanced dressing stations to the nearest 
 hospitals.
 
 80 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Before we are dead and buried," Dorothy ended up 
 with, " we hope that the R.A.M.C. will take us on. 
 Meanwhile we work and don't weep ! " 
 
 Tamar liked her. She was a fine-looking young crea- 
 ture, with soft dark brown hair, keen eyes and a fresh 
 complexion. She was strong and well set-up, and gave 
 the impression of quiet reliability. She was very keen 
 on her job, but not at all " swanky." And in her way 
 she seemed greatly attached to Rupert, and proud of 
 what he had done and been through. 
 
 " One of the first to serve his country," she said. 
 " And hating war and everything to do with killing. 
 And yet up he sprang and went off with the first Terri- 
 torials. I must say I should have hated him if he 
 hadn't!" 
 
 Tamar was in mighty good humour owing to the suc- 
 cessful transactions of the day. Rupert's forgiveness 
 had increased it, and she was really glad to have the 
 companionship of these two young people, lovers and 
 comrades too, who seemed so happy and direct and free, 
 and whose laughter sounded like gracious music in the 
 shop and started her thinking vaguely of some of the 
 things she had missed in life, ignored, brushed aside, 
 undervalued. She did something which surprised her 
 and made her smile grimly in the very act of perpetra- 
 tion. She thought of Mrs. Bridge, her old char, and 
 of how astonished she would be if she knew of this ex- 
 travagance. She opened, in fact, a pint of golden 
 Tokay, several bottles of which she had prized and 
 hoarded for years, produced some beautiful old liqueur 
 glasses, and slowly, rather grudgingly, poured into 
 them the rich-coloured liquid, the very shade itself of 
 golden beryl.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 81 
 
 She raised her own glass, into which she had poured 
 a few drops only. 
 
 " To love and young happiness ! " she said, smiling at 
 them benevolently. 
 
 " Why, it's like drinking jewels," Rupert said, smack- 
 ing his lips. " Never have I tasted anything so deli- 
 cious." 
 
 " Nor I," said the ambulance driver. " It must be 
 nectar itself." 
 
 Tarnar nodded approval of their comments, but 
 corked the bottle with anxious haste. 
 
 This little incident gave T. Scott a happy send-off 
 .to Holland, and when she met Christopher Bramfield at 
 Victoria Station she was at her best, jubilant over her 
 good business, content to shut up her shop for a short 
 time, and relieved to have swept all her remorse away, 
 and frankly glad for this outing and the break in her 
 life. Bramfield was in splendid form, and delighted to 
 get T. Scott to himself. He half wondered whether he 
 might not safely risk proposing to her again since she 
 was in such an exceptionally pleasant mood, and, for 
 her, quite human. But he wisely decided not to jeop- 
 ardize this chance of happy camaraderie, and contented 
 himself with thinking how glorious it would be if they 
 were really on their honeymoon. For he had always 
 wanted Tamar, and always would want her. Never had 
 he faltered in his love for her. Nothing had ever 
 changed the nature of his devotion, neither her sullen- 
 ness, her sulkiness, her rudeness, her graspingness, nor 
 her silent, secret loyalty to some one whom she had 
 loved in the past. Once only she had spoken of it. 
 
 " You know, Bramfield," she had said. " I've had my
 
 82 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 own little bit of romance. I'm not hypocrite enough 
 to pretend that having had it, I'm immersed in the mem- 
 ory of it to the exclusion of every other thought, inter- 
 est and possibility. That, I believe, is the usual atti- 
 tude of mind insisted on by writers of fiction. But in 
 real life people pass on. I've passed on. The chap- 
 ter is closed. Other chapters have followed and will 
 follow, but there could never be, in my remaining years 
 of record, a repetition of romance. Never. This is 
 my answer to you, and you must accept it as final." 
 
 But he never had accepted it as final, and did not 
 now accept it, even though he acted his part to perfec- 
 tion as an old friend of long-standing who wanted to 
 give and take only friendship and that settled intimate 
 but impersonal sympathy arising out of interests and 
 enthusiasms shared in common. 
 
 They had a good crossing immune from mines and 
 submarines and landed safely at Flushing, where an 
 amazing and a moving scene awaited them on the sta- 
 tion-platform. It was crowded with hundreds and hun- 
 dreds of refugees fleeing from the German invasion 
 priests and sisters and peasants laden with their pos- 
 sessions, old men and aged women, and young children 
 with their dolls and toys, and fishermen with their nets, 
 and prosperous people with their personable luggage, 
 all alike, rich and poor, old and young, seeking safety, 
 somehow, somewhere, in those early days of overwhelm- 
 ing panic. Bramfield fell in with a Canadian journalist 
 friend who had just arrived from the Belgian frontier, 
 where he had witnessed the bewildering, heart-breaking 
 sight of thousands of the terror-stricken inhabitants of 
 the invaded country pouring as an avalanche into Hol- 
 land. He had dashed off an appeal to the Canadian
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 83 
 
 public for funds in aid of the American Commission for 
 Relief in Belgium, and when he had cabled it, he re- 
 turned to the refreshment room to ease his spirit by 
 telling Bramfield some of the details which had touched 
 him to the very depths of his nature. Tamar had 
 never seen any one so moved. Her stony stare melted 
 into something like understanding when he spoke to her 
 and took it for granted that she also cared that she 
 also was appalled by the agony of Belgium. 
 
 This was Tamar's first realization of the results of 
 the war. She had heard that there were thousands of 
 Belgian refugees in England, but they had meant noth- 
 ing to her; and the few stray ones she had seen, were 
 rich Antwerp people who had come to her shop and 
 spent their money lavishly. She had sold to them in 
 those early days one or two of her most treasured an- 
 tiques and several costly rings, and that was all she 
 knew about Belgian refugees. But here she saw a state 
 of things she would never have believed possible, and it 
 flashed through her mind that the memory of the scene 
 would be haunting, unforgettable. She said as much to 
 Gertrude Linton, whom Bramfield had found immedi- 
 ately on their arrival. She had joined their little 
 group, andj together with the Canadian journalist, had 
 made a dash for the counter and emerged from the con- 
 fused masses with coffee and sandwiches for Bramfield 
 and Tamar and all of them. She told Tamar that she 
 was stationed at Flushing, working both with our own 
 Local Government, who were organizing the shipment 
 of refugees to England, and the Society of Friends, who 
 were helping the Dutch with their refugee problem in 
 Holland. It was easy to see that she was the very one 
 to cope with emergencies, for she was full of vitality
 
 84 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 and resourcefulness, could speak to the peasants in 
 something approximately like their own patois, and was 
 evidently exceedingly human and kind, in a way, too, 
 which imparted resilience and bestowed courage. She 
 had dancing eyes and a gay laugh. Tamar had never 
 met any one of this description before, and Miss Linton 
 evidently produced a curious effect on her : for contrary 
 to her usual habit of maintaining a sulky silence with a 
 stranger, she felt positively impelled to speak to her 
 about the tragic plight of all these people driven from 
 their homes and villages. 
 
 " Wait till you see the barges and the concentration 
 camps," Miss Linton said. " Then you'll know some- 
 thing about the misery of these poor Belgians." 
 
 " I shan't be seeing them," Tamar said curtly. 
 
 " Oh, but it's quite necessary for you to see them if 
 you're going to help," Miss Linton urged. " Fright- 
 fully harrowing, of course, but one gets an insight and 
 a grasp of conditions which one could not hope to get 
 in any other way." 
 
 " I have not come to help," Tamar said sulkily. 
 " I've come over on business." 
 
 Gertrude Linton glanced at her in surprise. 
 
 " Oh," she said, with a slight change of manner which 
 seemed to denote that, such being the case, Tamar did 
 not count. " I quite thought you were going to be one 
 of us, as you were with Mr. Bramfield, who is so splen- 
 did. I don't know what we should do without him." 
 
 " What does he do, then, that's so wonderful ? " 
 Tamar asked. 
 
 "What doesn't he do?" Miss Linton answered. 
 " Why, from the very beginning he looked after the ref- 
 ugees when they arrived in England. Night after night
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 85 
 
 he was /at the stations, untiring, unfailing in his efforts. 
 And he was one of those who put it to the Government 
 that there should be some systematic handling of the 
 sailings from here and the arrivals in England. Is it 
 possible that you don't know? " 
 
 " No, I don't know," T. Scott said, half ashamed, and 
 already a little uncomfortable at being regarded as an 
 outsider, with interests distinct from those of this in- 
 ner circle. With something like envy she watched Ger- 
 trude Linton passing amongst the crowd, talking now 
 to this old peasant, now to this little child, and once she 
 saw her bending down to a little fair-haired boy, touch- 
 ing him on the head, and holding out her hand with the 
 words: " Gi polk." (Give the hand.) 
 
 Later, she said to Bramfield: 
 
 " That Miss Linton tells me you've been concerning 
 yourself about the welfare of the Belgian refugees. Is 
 it true? " 
 
 " I suppose it is true," he answered a little shyly, for 
 he had seldom if ever spoken to Tamar of his war activi- 
 ties. " One couldn't go on as if nothing was happening, 
 you know." 
 
 " Well, I've been able to," she said grimly. " I can't 
 deny that, can I? " 
 
 " No," he replied, looking on the ground. " But, 
 somehow, one did not expect otherwise from you 
 didn't even wish it from you on the whole." 
 
 She was silent, but his words, if he had only known, 
 were a greater reproach to her than any reprimand. 
 Others, presumably, were to be counted on, as a mat- 
 ter of course, to give themselves freely in this hour of 
 emergency, to offer time, money, strength, enterprise, 
 but she, Tamar, was to be exempted ; and the only per-
 
 86 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 son who knew anything about her, did not even dream 
 of reckoning her amongst the number of willing helpers. 
 That was what Bramfield thought of her. The realiza- 
 tion of it stirred in her a vague feeling of uneasy dis- 
 content with her own aims and outlook. 
 
 Gertrude Lint on and one of the members of the Amer- 
 ican Commission for Relief accompanied them that same 
 afternoon to Rotterdam. They went to an hotel on the 
 quay, and Tamar had a room looking right on to the 
 Maas, and a view, therefore, of the shipping which de- 
 lighted and almost excited her. For she was fond of 
 any kind of watercraft. She loved barges, tugs, steam- 
 ers, boats. In London they were almost her only pleas- 
 ure outside her joy in her antiques and precious stones. 
 Here then, at Rotterdam, she saw them in profusion, 
 and could scarcely tear herself away from the window 
 when Miss Linton came to fetch her down to dinner. 
 
 They were an interesting group in the sitting-room 
 that night. Amongst them was the Rotterdam repre- 
 sentative of the Commission for Relief in Belgium, whose 
 headquarters were at Rotterdam. His charming wife 
 was there also, together with two other members of the 
 Commission. The American military attache at The 
 Hague, who had just been to Berlin to inquire into and 
 arrange about further canal service for the fleet of 
 barges which conveyed the food into Belgium, was also 
 present. There was also a merry Canadian skipper, 
 very popular with them all, who had braved the mine- 
 fields in the dark and brought in a relief ship from Can- 
 ada twelve hours before his time. He was really very 
 proud of this feat, though when congratulated, all he 
 said was :
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 87 
 
 " Well, well, the little children had to have their food 
 as soon as possible, hadn't they ? " 
 
 He addressed his question to Tamar, taking it for 
 granted that she was pleased with his performance. 
 
 " Yes, they have had to have it as soon as possible," 
 she repeated mechanically. 
 
 " Of course they had to have it," Captain Smith said, 
 slapping his knee. " Why, my good woman, they're 
 starving." 
 
 " Starving? " she repeated. 
 
 " Why, yes," he answered impatiently. " Haven't 
 you seen the latest reports? They are enough to make 
 one weep. Haven't you read about Malines ? " 
 
 " No," she said, shaking her head. " But I heard 
 that newspaper man over there speak of things he had 
 seen." 
 
 And she added, as if in excuse : 
 
 " I have only just arrived." 
 
 " Well," he insisted, " ask him to show you one of his 
 articles. That will give you an idea." 
 
 It was Miss Linton who came to her rescue and di- 
 verted the skipper into another channel, a service for 
 which poor Tamar was devoutly thankful, and which 
 confirmed the good impression Miss Linton had made on 
 her. But she was soon run in by an English lady living 
 in Groningen, who had come over to see what help and 
 clothing she could collect for the English Naval Divi- 
 sion and Belgian soldiers interned there. Very earnest 
 and kind was this lady, but fiercely bent on saving the 
 soul of the gallant sea-captain so much so that it was 
 understood by the little community that he was never 
 to be left alone to her mercy. 
 
 " Any amount of mines and submarines," he said, with
 
 88 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 a twinkle in his eye. " But not that kind of danger 
 without due protection. I guess it's up to the Commis- 
 sion to provide me with a convoy when that good lady 
 is anywhere around." 
 
 She was drifting, as usual, over to him, when the 
 danger was averted by the arrival of a young Harvard 
 undergraduate, the Commission's official messenger be- 
 tween Brussels and Rotterdam. He had been arrested 
 thirteen times, and was " full of beans." He wore his 
 passport framed and slung over his chest. 
 
 " Too boring to have to produce it each time," he said 
 with a laugh. 
 
 He had been through thrilling experiences, some of 
 which he narrated with great humour; but when he be- 
 gan to speak of some of the terrible sights he had seen 
 in the villages, and the frightful stories he had heard, 
 young and light-hearted and dashing though he was, he 
 broke down. Nothing, he said, could exaggerate the 
 misery of the land. The deserted fields were cemeteries 
 of the dead. Women and children sought refuge in the 
 ruins of their ropfless homes and were terrified at his 
 approach. He could never forget the fear on their 
 faces. He had had a few provisions on him. When he 
 gave them food, they kissed his hands. 
 
 He broke off when a man of military appearance, but 
 in civilian attire and obviously a German, entered the 
 general sitting-room where the company had assembled, 
 sat down at a table at the farther end of the room and 
 began to write. 
 
 A hush fell on them all. As long as they were alone 
 and undisturbed, they had been talking freely about 
 plans and difficulties and possibilities ; but now their pri- 
 vacy had come to an end, and they had to be cautious.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 89 
 
 When they began to speak again, their conversation was 
 entirely non-committal, and could liave been safely 
 transmitted to Berlin without any pernicious conse- 
 quences. Captain Smith, with a sly wink at the Amer- 
 ican Consul, began to talk about his favourite brand of 
 whisky, really to tease the Groningen lady, who looked 
 at Vim reproachfully and shook her head sorrowfully. 
 The official messenger became suddenly eloquent about 
 the virtues of his grandmother in Colorado, the man- 
 ager of the Dutch Shipping Agency Company, whose 
 firm attended to the transhipment of the cargoes of food 
 to Belgium and who had been arranging business with 
 the Rotterdam representative, maintained an entire 
 silence. Miss Linton broke out into a rhapsody on 
 Dutch cheese, and reminded Tamar that Alkmaar, the 
 place she and Bramfield were going to on the morrow, 
 was the centre of the cheese trade in the North. The 
 Canadian journalist took out his notebook and began 
 to write another dispatch. The Belgian delegue of the 
 Belgian Comite de Secours et d' Alimentation glared at 
 the intruder with a fierceness which he made no attempt 
 to control. 
 
 " A spy," Bramfield whispered to Tamar. " We shut 
 up like oysters when he is anywhere near. One can't 
 be too careful. They follow us about, watching and 
 listening, hoping to pick up some bit of information. 
 You'd better be on your guard whilst you're here." 
 
 " Well, they couldn't learn much from me, Bramfield, 
 could they?" Tamar said quaintly. "No one could 
 accuse me of having any information to impart on 
 events happening outside my own shop." 
 
 He laughed and she laughed. It struck her as being 
 exceedingly funny that he, of all people, should warn
 
 90 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 .her against spies. He saw the humour of his admoni- 
 tion and, tickled by the fun, continued : 
 
 " Now, mind, T. Scott, not a word about the changes 
 in the Cabinet, nor speeches in the House of Commons ; 
 not a single word about conditions at home, nor strikes, 
 good recruiting, bad recruiting, War Loans, war prepa- 
 rations, public feeling. Be as cautious, T. Scott, as 
 though your country were a pigeon-blood ruby, flaw- 
 less, and three carats in weight ! " 
 
 ** Your spy has only got one hand," she said. " His 
 left one is false." 
 
 " Well, I've never noticed that," he said. " You're 
 right, though. You have got lynx eyes." 
 
 " I've got some intelligence," she answered, with a 
 smile. 
 
 When the German had left the room, Bramfield told 
 the company about T. Scott's discovery. They seemed 
 to think that they had all been singularly unobservant, 
 and that she had found out something which might come 
 in useful in some unexpected circumstances. It was 
 only a little trifling incident, of course, but it had the 
 immediate effect of giving Tamar a status amongst her 
 new companions. And Bramfield was secretly de- 
 lighted; it had positively hurt him to see her in their 
 midst, an outsider, of no consequence, negligible. She 
 might not care, he said to himself, but he cared ; for he 
 had been accustomed for years now to see her in her 
 own setting, where she counted, controlled, ruled. Any 
 position less than that was unthinkable for Tamar. 
 
 She did not sleep much that night. She watched the 
 lights in the harbour, and thought about all these 
 strangers she had met, whose eagerness, enthusiasm and 
 disinterestedness were a revelation to her. None of
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 91 
 
 them seemed to be living a personal life nor to be inter- 
 ested in their own private concerns. As she recalled it, 
 their entire attention was focussed on the problem of 
 helping the refugees, housing the ones remaining in Hol- 
 land, speeding on their way those who were going to 
 England, feeding the seven million Belgians shut off 
 from the outside world in Belgium, overcoming all the 
 international difficulties of this gigantic task of amaz- 
 ing philanthropy, and planning reconstruction of their 
 national life against the time when the war would be over 
 and their land free from German occupation. When at 
 last she slept, Bramfield's words were borne to her in her 
 dreams : 
 
 " Well, one couldn't go on as if nothing was happen- 
 ing, you know." 
 
 " I've been going on as if nothing was happening," 
 she answered. 
 
 " Yes, but one didn't expect otherwise from you," he 
 said. 
 
 That was not pleasant to hear, even in a dream.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE next day Bramfield and Tamar went to Alk- 
 maar, the centre of the North Holland cheese trade. 
 It was a Friday, market day, and the " Dijk," the large 
 square, was filled with gay-coloured carts of the boers 
 of the surrounding villages, picturesque-looking traps, 
 with lines of poetry painted on the tailboards. Thou- 
 sands of pounds of yellow and red cheeses, each marked 
 with the initials of the peasants, were spread out in 
 front of the Weigh House. 
 
 They lingered a while to see this interesting specta- 
 cle, which, however, was familiar to Tamar as well as 
 Bramfield, and then took the steam tramway to Egmond 
 op den Hoof, which would bring them within two or 
 three miles of their destination, the home of Weduwe 
 Maas. 
 
 As they sped along the country, Bramfield said : 
 
 " It is amazing to think of the peacefulness on this 
 side of the frontier and the agony on the other only 
 a few miles separating ordinary normal life from a tre- 
 mendous tragedy. Here, these quiet little homes, pros- 
 perous and untouched; and over there, only ruin and 
 desolation. One shudders lest a similar fate should 
 overtake this land too." 
 
 But Tamar did not rise to the realization of such a 
 possibility. She was attuned to business and her mind 
 was only occupied with thoughts of the valuable silver 
 collection belonging to Weduwe Maas. At that mo- 
 ment the fate of any nation would have been a matter 
 
 92
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 93 
 
 of entire indifference to her ; and, so far as she was con- 
 cerned, all the inhabitants of all the countries could 
 have suddenly become panic-stricken refugees without 
 disturbing her equanimity. 
 
 " Did you say there were three or four nefs, B ram- 
 field ? " she asked, ignoring his remarks. 
 
 He smiled indulgently. 
 
 " Four, I think," he answered. " I know that one of 
 them is very beautifully chased, and another exception- 
 ally large; but the best is said to be small and jewelled 
 rather richly quite unusual." 
 
 Tamar's eyes sparkled. She resolved to keep them 
 some time for her own pleasure, and then sell them at 
 a stimulating profit. When they got to Egmond, they 
 secured a trap, and passed through more little formal 
 villages, with their prim rows of trees painted blue half- 
 way up the trunks, and their precise houses and neat 
 green windows. Tamar became quite excited at the 
 prospect awaiting her, but was rather cross when they 
 arrived at a most evilly smelling village, the horror of 
 which considerably modified her secret transports. 
 
 " What on earth have you brought me to, Bram- 
 field? " she said. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Never mind," he said. "It's worth it. Bear up, 
 Tamar. Don't be cross. Four of your favourite nefs, 
 and one of them jewelled. Remember that and keep 
 your nostrils closed ! " 
 
 They drew up at a comfortable-looking house, at a 
 comparatively comfortable distance from the smell, and 
 were received by a buxom woman of many petticoats, 
 of course in peasant attire, and with the curious head- 
 dress of the district. Bramfield produced a letter to
 
 94 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 show that he was the person with whom the family had 
 been in correspondence, and before long Tamar and he 
 found themselves in a large kitchen, with large chest 
 and massive cupboards which would have delighted the 
 heart of any lover of antique furniture. They were 
 bidden to hospitality, for Bramfield had been introduced 
 by one of the Wcduwe Maas's oldest friends, and they 
 sat down to coffee of fragrant brew, and bread, butter, 
 raw salted herring, known as pekel-haring, and some 
 very trying cheese, made from goat's milk, schaper- 
 kaas, which was offered as a delicacy in honour of the 
 guests. T. Scott, never an adept at courtesy or even 
 the semblance of it, was prepared to refuse everything 
 put before her, whilst her eyes roamed over the room, 
 noting the beds in the wall and all the objects of inter- 
 est, and trying to guess where the silver treasures were 
 for which she had made the journey. Preliminaries 
 were a bore to her, but Bramficld whispered to her that 
 she really must put up with them and behave herself, 
 and eat a lot of pekel-haring and schaper-kaas, and pre- 
 tend to enjoy it. 
 
 " You'll give offence, Tamar," he said, " and then 
 you won't find it easy to get what you want at a rea- 
 sonable price, or perhaps you won't get it at all. Then 
 you'll have made the journey in vain and wasted all 
 your money." 
 
 The devastating thought of wasting money braced 
 Tamar up to immediate control. She became gracious 
 in her queer, sulky way, ate all the pekel-haring and 
 schapcr-kaas, nodded in friendly fashion when the We- 
 duwe addressed her, ceased to stare at the furniture, 
 and bowed at intervals to the furrowed old peasant 
 woman, the Weduwe's old mother, who sat by the win-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 95 
 
 dow, knitting, serene, smiling and pleased with the 
 attentions of the guests. 
 
 At last Tamar was rewarded for her patience. She 
 was taken to an inner room, crowded with possessions, 
 and Weduwe Maas produced from a large chest a most 
 beautiful little jewelled nef, such as she had never before 
 seen. She wisely suppressed an exclamation of delight, 
 but her eyes danced with glee. Three other nefs were 
 in turn displayed, and silver candle-sticks, silver boxes, 
 buckles, very large buttons, spoons, brooches, collars, 
 head ornaments, head-dresses all very old and fine. 
 
 Then the bargaining began. Bramfield stood en- 
 joying hugely the contest between the two women. He 
 did not remember when he had had such fun. It 
 amused him to see that T. Scott had evidently met her 
 match. She had to give in and pay a larger price than 
 she was willing, not only for the Dutch ships, but for all 
 the other things. The truth was that she had yielded 
 because she had seen in the crow's nest of the jewelled 
 nef a stone which she believed was a really fine emerald, 
 and if that were the case, the victory was hers and We- 
 duwe Maas badly vanquished! She chuckled over this 
 uplifting probability, and kept the matter to herself 
 for some time on their way back. She placidly suffered 
 Bramfield to tease her about having found a worthy 
 rival in the science of driving a hard bargain. 
 
 " I always thought you were top dog in that respect, 
 T. Scott," he said, with a smile. " But plainly there 
 are others who almost approach your high-water mark 
 of perfection. The Weduwe was a tough one, wasn't 
 she? You had to give in, after all, and let the old dame 
 have her own way. Well, the nefs are all beauties, and 
 I'm glad you've got them. It was worth while risking
 
 96 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 the mines and submarines, coming this distance and eat- 
 ing the pekel-haring and schaper-kaas, wasn't it, and 
 climbing down a little, though I suppose you won't ever 
 admit that? " 
 
 " I sha'n't have to, Bramfield," she said at last, with a 
 grim .smile. "Unless I am greatly mistaken, there is 
 an emerald in the crow's nest of that jewelled nef which 
 is of real value. I may be mistaken, on such a hasty 
 examination, but I don't think I am. When I sus- 
 pected this, I thought it worth while to let Weduwe 
 Maas have her own way." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " You're a wonder, Tamar," he said. " So that was 
 why you were so compliant 1 No, I don't suppose you 
 are mistaken, really. I have never known you to be 
 certainly not over emeralds. You have a natural in- 
 stinct about them." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " my birth stones, you remember." 
 
 So back they came to Rotterdam, in great good hu- 
 mour, Bramfield delighted with the success of the expe- 
 dition, and Tamar much elated by what she considered 
 her triumph over the Weduwe's undoubted business 
 qualities, and buoyed up at the prospect of the hand- 
 some profits she would be likely to make over her trans- 
 actions of the day. She had forgotten about the war 
 and the plight of the refugees and the fate of the starv- 
 ing seven million inhabitants of Belgium. Only the 
 thought of the emerald in the crow's nest possessed her 
 mind. Was she mistaken about it? No, impossible. 
 On closer examination, would it indeed prove to be as 
 flawless as she had judged it at first sight? Yes,
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 97 
 
 surely. Could she, by any chance, have been deceived 
 about its grass-green colour? No, entirely improb- 
 able. But supposing such were the case, she had never- 
 theless secured for herself a sufficient margin for a 
 profit by no means negligible. So really there was noth- 
 ing to worry about. 
 
 Dominated by these questions and answers and by 
 this consoling conclusion, Tamar sought the sitting- 
 room, where she found the company reinforced by sev- 
 eral other people, amongst them the President of the 
 Dutch Committee for Support to Belgians, which was 
 doing valuable work for the relief of their distressed 
 guests, a Rhodes scholar who brought in a report on 
 the distribution and redistribution of the food sent 
 from the United States and the Dominions, and a coun- 
 cillor from one of the towns in Belgium, who had been 
 released provisionally by the Germans to ma*ke some 
 arrangements with the Commission on behalf of his com- 
 munity. 
 
 Captain Smith rallied her about her absence, and told 
 her she had missed several interesting events, the most 
 important of which had been the arrival of another re- 
 lief vessel, containing several tons of condensed milk, so 
 urgently needed to save the lives of the little ones. 
 Also, eight barges, towed by four express tugs, had left 
 Rotterdam with further relief for Brussels, to say 
 nothing of the other barges dispatched in other direc- 
 tions. 
 
 " Now see what you've missed," he said. " Aren't 
 you sorry? " 
 
 Tamar thought she was. Half willingly, half re- 
 luctantly, she felt herself Joeing caught once more into 
 the atmosphere of these people, who were subordinating
 
 98 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 their own interests and concerns to the task of minis- 
 tering to the helpless victims of the war. She began to 
 be a little ashamed of her successful transactions at 
 Alkmaar, and vaguely uneasy over her capacity for 
 sweeping every other consideration aside when it came 
 to the question of attaining her own personal aims 
 and attending to her own private business. For the 
 moment those beautiful nefs lost some of their value, 
 and the emerald some of its grass-green colour. They 
 were destined, of course, to regain very quickly their 
 position of importance in her mind, but they were cer- 
 tainly relegated to the background as the evening 
 passed. For, at the request of the Rotterdam Repre- 
 sentative's wife, some of the appeals for help from the 
 Communes were read aloud. Gertrude Linton read 
 some, Bramfield others, the Representative others. 
 The Belgian delegue began, but could not go on. It 
 was more than he could bear. 
 
 Here are a few extracts of what that little company 
 heard that evening: 
 
 " We beg to call your attention to our poor city. 
 We have nothing here, and are most in need of food, 
 beds, clothing, coals." Dendermonde. 
 
 " I beg you to come to the help of our* unhappy and 
 most honest population, which is exhausted and de- 
 prived of all resources, as the result of the exactions 
 and requisitions of the Germans. The population is 
 principally composed of fishermen, workmen and small 
 tradespeople, on whom famine and the blackest misery 
 await if help is not brought to them." Hejst. 
 
 " The population of my community comprises 5,000 
 souls. If you could come to our help, you would save
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 99 
 
 from death a whole population, which would be eter- 
 nally grateful to you. That which exists no longer in 
 my town is flour, coal and meat." 
 
 " Everything is missing. We are in want of pota- 
 toes, peas, beans, grain, flour, meat, bacon, clothes, 
 wooden shoes. No petroleum is obtainable." 
 
 " The communal funds are finished, and if you come 
 not to help us, God knows what will become of us." 
 
 " Our communes are without resources, and with 
 them the benevolent institutions. We have finished our 
 short report. We have not dramatized it. The facts 
 are horrible enough, the miseries are so painful that 
 we are unable to describe them rightly." 
 
 ** In the name of humanity help us." 
 
 "Allow me to ask you not to forget the Belgian 
 Luxemburg. This province is one of the first invaded, 
 and is without any communication with the remainder 
 of the country. Be kind enough to think of this prov- 
 ince, which met with so much misfortune, like the 
 others." 
 
 " At Andenne and Seilles hundreds of houses have 
 been shot at and burned down. It is women, it is chil- 
 dren that have been killed or made prisoners. At Ta- 
 mines, at Anvelais, everywhere, in the cities and in the 
 country, they accumulate the ruins and the devastation." 
 
 " Permit us to make an appeal to your great gener- 
 osity in favour of the movement for the supply of milk 
 for little children and mothers in our town. We have 
 to rely on condensed milk, which, happily, a charitable 
 soul has given us so far. Without that we should have 
 to send the poor mothers away, and we have, alas, al- 
 ready been witnesses of more than one heart-rending 
 scene of that nature. Condensed milk is therefore very 
 precious to us, but we. possess none." 
 
 " Alas, the children born during this war, of moth-
 
 100 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 ers enfeebled by worries and privations, are very deli- 
 cate." 
 
 " Flour is hardly to be obtained. The stock of meat 
 and corn in Hamme will not be sufficient till the end of 
 this year. This is a great ill when the winter is coming 
 and is running with speed to our countries." 
 
 " Hamme's poor men pray their friends in America 
 to allow them some assistance in these sorrowful mo- 
 ments." 
 
 " At last the moment has come to show how the Ger- 
 mans have acted since their arrival on our soil. With- 
 out any reason they have put fire to thousands of 
 houses, and they have sacked those which were not de- 
 stroyed; to put the crown on their work, in many dis- 
 tricts they have shot the population without arms. In 
 other places they have taken the civilians and put them 
 in prison, with the consequences that all cities and vil- 
 lages are at present deprived of masculine population." 
 
 But although flour, rice, potatoes, peas, beans, wheat, 
 sugar, wooden shoes, boots, clothes, oil-cakes for the 
 few remaining cattle, milk and salt were all asked for, 
 what was begged for most of all was bread and salt ; and 
 as Tamar listened to these appeals, so touching and 
 dignified in their simple, bare statement of facts, she 
 said to herself more than once that, whether she liked 
 it or resented it, the truth remained that the words 
 " bread " and " salt " were burnt into her brain for the 
 rest of her life. 
 
 ' Sleep did not come easily to her that night, and when 
 at last she sank into slumber, she was torn in spirit 
 by conflicting dreams of starving people, devastated 
 villages, fields of the dead, finely-chased nefs, pekel- 
 haring, a superb emerald, the worth of which was known 
 only to her, and a Dutch Weduwe who believed, poor
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 101 
 
 soul, that she was the one who had driven a hard bar- 
 gain and come off victor. Tamar woke up with a 
 chuckle. 
 
 " Ah," she said aloud, " that woman little knows that 
 it's I who have scored. For I cannot be mistaken 
 about that stone. Impossible. Its colour was perfect. 
 And it had an imprisoned beauty a flaming splen- 
 dour." 
 
 The next morning Tamar learnt that Bramfield and 
 several others were going down to the docks to visit 
 another relief-ship which had arrived from Philadel- 
 phia on the previous day. Bramfield did not ask 
 Tamar to accompany them. He took it for granted 
 that she would not be interested, but Captain Smith 
 took it for granted that she would be only too glad to 
 make up for her lost opportunity, and said: 
 
 " Why, I guess you're coming, aren't you ? A very 
 interesting sight. And as the good lady from Gronin- 
 gen will be of the party, I'll need a large convoy to pro- 
 tect me from being converted to teetotalism. I guess 
 I'll need all the people I can muster." 
 
 " I f hall come," Tamar said. And if the truth had 
 been known, she was glad she had been definitely asked 
 to join the convoy. 
 
 So in about an hour's time, Tamar found herself in 
 the brisk little steam-launch flying the American flag, 
 which always took the Commission people on their river 
 errands. Captain Smith, the lady from Grb'ningen, 
 the Rotterdam Representative and his wife, Bramfield, 
 the Dutch shipping agent, the Rhodes scholar and two 
 American professors, together with T. Scott, made up 
 the party. Gertrude Linton was not there. She had
 
 102 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 had to hurry off to one of the refugee concentration 
 camps at Bergen-op-Zoom, and when Captain Smith 
 heard this tragic news, he shook his head sadly and 
 gave himself up to his fate. 
 
 " She was a convoy in herself," he murmured. " A 
 barrage through which nothing could break." 
 
 Off they started to the ship. On their way they 
 passed in and out of the different harbours and along- 
 side many wharves, and saw more than one Commission 
 vessel with the Red Cross painted on its sides, and sheds 
 full of cases of food and clothing from all parts of 
 America and Canada being sorted out for dispatch to 
 several destinations, and barges already laden with 
 their cargoes and on the point of starting for Belgium. 
 It was all very thrilling. Tamar, who delighted in 
 shipping, was in her element. She noted every barge, 
 every tug, every interned vessel, every kind of craft, and 
 gave expression to her enjoyment in a way that amazed 
 Bramfield. He had never known her so pleasant, so 
 companionable, and so talkative. Nor did she forget 
 to guard the skipper at a dangerous moment. Always 
 at a crisis, T. Scott had a question to ask, and very 
 neatly she achieved her aim. She was pleased when 
 Captain Smith praised her and said she was almost as 
 clever as Miss Linton. 
 
 At last they drew up near the ship, scrambled over 
 two barges lying alongside and climbed on to the deck. 
 They bent over into the hold, riveted by the sight of 
 the vast cargo 1,900 tons of rice, flour, salt, beans, 
 peas, wheat and condensed milk. They were thrilled 
 by the thought that this was only one of the many ship- 
 ments coming into port day by day, and that they 
 would continue to come with unfailing faithfulness from
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 103 
 
 all parts of America, from Philadelphia, Boston, New 
 York, San Francisco, Maryland, Oregon, Virginia, 
 from Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Great Brit- 
 ain. 
 
 Tamar voiced the feelings of the whole company 
 when, to her own surprise, she said aloud : 
 
 " Cargoes of Mercy." 
 
 And then Bramfield asked the Rotterdam Representa- 
 tive to tell them the stbry of the Commission for Relief. 
 He told it. And as they listened, their imaginations 
 were stirred by the idealistic as well as the practical as- 
 pect of this vast philanthropic undertaking, probably 
 the greatest relief movement in history. A handful 
 of business men, the Chairman of the Commission at 
 their head, had made up their minds that the seven mil- 
 lion starving Belgians in Belgium must be fed at the 
 cost of any effort, however great, and that no difficul- 
 ties, impossibilities or discouragements were to be al- 
 lowed to deter them from the realization of this dream. 
 He did not speak of the splendour of the scheme, the 
 largeness of it, the underlying pitifulness and tender- 
 ness of it. He did not boast of the amazing fulfilment 
 of it. He did not claim that it would make a proud 
 record for the United States for all ages. He just 
 gave them a simple and direct narrative of facts from 
 which it was easy enough to build 'up a structure of 
 idealism. He said it was the work for a great neutral 
 power to do. And they did it. He told them that in 
 the first cargo, largely printed on each case were the 
 words : " For our brave Allies" Needless to say, 
 they had to be removed by the officials of the Commis- 
 sion, whose very existence, of course, depended on a 
 strict observance of neutrality. He spoke of some of
 
 10* WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 the difficulties : difficulties of negotiating with the Ger- 
 man Government for permission, complications with the 
 Allied Governments, and political obstacles: precau- 
 tions that the food supplies should be used for Belgians 
 only: anxieties and hindrances with regard to trans- 
 port, distribution and redistribution. Were the trains 
 in Belgium running? Were the canals open? What 
 was the condition of the canals, if open? Were they 
 going to be allowed to use them for their fleet of barges 
 lying ready to ship the food from Rotterdam to the 
 various towns? Well, the difficulties and impossibili- 
 ties were being overcome. All was going well. The 
 machinery was being perfected. The vessels were being 
 multiplied. Food and contributions were pouring in. 
 An impending doom was being turned into a victory of 
 peace. 
 
 " With brains like those of our splendid Chairman," 
 he said, " and devotion like that of our good friend, the 
 Captain here, and pluck like that of our official messen- 
 gers and all our other boys, we can do anything. We 
 can meet the appeals of the starving towns and com- 
 munes with confidence." 
 
 Back to the minds of some of the listeners flashed 
 the remembrance of those appeals which had been read 
 to them the previous evening: 
 
 " Everything is. missing." 
 
 " In the name of humanity, help us." 
 
 " Come to the help of our unhappy and most honest 
 people." 
 
 Seven millions starving in their own country, crying 
 out for bare necessities only bread and salt. Ruined 
 homes, wrecked towns, deserted fields of the dead, devas- 
 tated villages, tragedies of outrage and brutality, ruth-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 105 
 
 lessness in its ghastliest form, cargoes of mercy for 
 these suffering millions and the good ship on which 
 they were standing symbolic of the whole wonderful 
 scheme of merciful intervention. 
 
 They could scarcely tear themselves away. Tamar 
 was the last to leave. She lingered behind, staring into 
 that hold with its treasury of food. Bramfield touched 
 her on the arm. 
 
 "Are you not coming, Tamar?" he said gently. 
 " We're going to another wharf." 
 
 She followed him silently. He knew from the tense 
 expression on her face that she was tremendously 
 stirred. 
 
 They finished up the morning's expedition by a visit 
 to a shed to see the Santa Claus presents of toys and 
 goodies sent on the Jason by American children to Bel- 
 gian little ones. Owing to the military regulations, all 
 these gifts had to be forwarded without the loving little 
 messages of goodwill and greeting which had accom- 
 panied them from America. Some of the pieces of 
 paper were still scattered on the floor. Captain Smith 
 stooped and picked one up. He read it aloud. It ran 
 thus: 
 
 " DEAR LITTLE BELGIAN GIRL, 
 
 " I send you a doll and some pea-nuts. Also some 
 candy. I am sorry you have a war in your town. We 
 haven't had a war in our town lately. 
 
 " From your loving, 
 
 " FLOSSIE T. PHILLIPS." 
 
 " Well," he said, " you wouldn't think that document 
 would be dangerous to the safety of the German Em- 
 pire."
 
 106 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 They laughed, and helped to gather up the inscrip- 
 tions, which were entrusted to the care of the Repre- 
 sentative's wife, with a solemn exhortation to make 
 them into a book for Belgian children, in readiness for a 
 better time to come. And meantime the joy gifts were 
 taking their own joy messages to the little Belgians still 
 in Belgium and the little refugees in Holland. 
 
 The next day Bramfield told Tamar in an off-hand 
 manner that arrangements could be made for her re- 
 turn to England that same evening if she chose, but 
 that he would be remaining for a few days longer. He 
 had business to do for himself in Amsterdam, and sev- 
 eral matters to attend to for the Commission and also 
 for the Society of Friends with whom he was also as- 
 sociated in their refugee work. 
 
 " Probably you will want to be off now that you have 
 secured your silver, Tamar," he said. " Of course, if 
 you cared to stay on, there's a lot to see. We are go- 
 ing, for instance, to the refugee concentration camps at 
 Rosendaal and Bergen-6p-Zoom, and also to one or two 
 of the barges, where there are still a number of refugees 
 left. I want to make a report of the admirable efforts 
 the Dutch have made on behalf of their uninvited guests. 
 I think they have played up grandly, and have been fine 
 and generous." 
 
 " I don't mind staying on," Tamar said, with a half 
 smile which had a shade of self-excuse in it. " I don't 
 mind going to see the concentration camps." 
 
 Bramfield, who had of course wanted her to remain, 
 laughed secretly at the success of his ruse. 
 
 " She's interested, is T. Scott," he thought. " And 
 she would sooner die than confess it." 
 
 But he was too wise to make any comment on her de-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 107 
 
 cision, or to let any sign of pleasure or surprise be seen 
 on his face. 
 
 The next day, a party of five or six of them, in two 
 motors, started off for the refugee camps, taking 
 Rosendaal first. They motored over the peaceful coun- 
 try, which looked so prim and self-contained, and they 
 all thought and spoke with a shudder of pity of that 
 sorrowful, mourning land over the frontier, but a few 
 miles away, the prey of a cruel fate from which, so far, 
 Holland had been mercifully spared. They crossed 
 the river, passed through Dordrecht and finally arrived 
 at the Hollandsch Diep. Here they had to wait an 
 hour or so for the ferry. Very lovely looked the 
 water, lit up by the sunshine of a beautiful, crisp morn- 
 ing. They drank coffee in the little restaurant, and 
 strolled about. The Representative's wife, always so 
 charming and companionable, rather wanted on this 
 occasion to hug the stove ; but as no one could do with- 
 out her, she had to resign herself to a walk, equipped 
 or not equipped for that American tragedy. 
 
 Bramfield was delighted to see how Tamar was en- 
 joying the outing. And indeed she was congratulat- 
 ing herself the whole time that she had not been left 
 out of the scheme. She seemed in such a good temper 
 that he could not forbear from teasing her a little. On 
 their way they had passed through several prim villages 
 and one or two perniciously fragrant ones, which, he 
 said, had reminded him of nefs and emeralds ! 
 
 " I don't believe it is an emerald of any value," he 
 said, with a twinkle in his eye. " I think that old We- 
 duwe got the better of you, Tamar. It will be a joke 
 if she did." 
 
 " You rather seem to wish she had," Tamar said
 
 108 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 good-temperedly, for at that moment the value of the 
 emerald did not interest her in the least. 
 
 " Well, it would be fun for once, I must own," he 
 said. " Please forgive me." 
 
 She laughed and forgave him. When she was amia- 
 ble and at her best, she rather liked Bramfield to tease 
 her. It was her way of accepting his offer of a mild 
 flirtation. 
 
 But about ten minutes later, when they were bending 
 over the side of the ferry and looking at the fine, long 
 railway bridge which spanned the Hollandsch Diep, she 
 suddenly said : 
 
 " I've never yet been mistaken about an emerald, 
 Bramfield. Never." 
 
 " Well, it's time you were," he said cheerily. " Quite 
 time." 
 
 And again she laughed. 
 
 They arrived at Rosendaal and went immediately to 
 the refugee quarters there, which had been established 
 in a large granary. They were received by a very kind 
 Dutch Commandant, who, to their joy and surprise, 
 had Gertrude Linton with him. Tamar was especially 
 pleased. She had taken a fancy to her, and seemed 
 at once to become electrified and stimulated by her pres- 
 ence. 
 
 " I'm looking for a lost little child," she said, waving 
 a paper. " The grandparents have been sent off to 
 England without her, and are in despair. Here is her 
 description. Let's see if we can find her by any chance. 
 It's heartbreaking when the little ones get separated 
 from their families. It does happen sometimes, and I 
 can't sleep for thinking of them."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 109 
 
 The refugees were herded together in a large dark 
 room on the ground floor, waiting for dinner. It was a 
 sorrowful thing to see all those homeless, stunned peo- 
 ple, the men playing cards listlessly, the women droop- 
 ing despairingly, the little children with no toys, the 
 old, frail women so bewildered and weak that one won- 
 dered how they had survived the loss of their homes, and 
 the horror of their experiences. Yet they brightened 
 up amazingly when Gertrude Linton passed amongst 
 them. She found the right word, the right greeting 
 for every old woman, every tiny child; and Bramfield, 
 too, appeared to have caught some of her magical gift 
 or perhaps to have had it all along, for all Tamar 
 knew. The rest of the party, Tamar, the Representa- 
 tive and his wife, the Canadian journalist, and an Amer- 
 ican professor, followed humbly in the footsteps of these 
 leaders, all anxious to show friendliness and sympathy. 
 The old women were specially pleased to be spoken to, 
 and one of them, in answer to Miss Linton's words of 
 concern about the loss of her home and the trials she 
 had been through, smiled with a radiance born of love, 
 and said: 
 
 " Ah, but we have the little ones safe. Nothing mat- 
 ters except that." 
 
 And she pointed to a group of them playing near the 
 stove. The Commandant looked in their direction, and 
 turning to Tamar, who stood near him, exclaimed in a 
 voice positively charged with grief: 
 
 " And imagine, Madame, we have no toys for the chil- 
 dren not a single one. Yes, one this old, old rag 
 that used to be a doll. That's not enough, is it? " 
 
 " No, it isn't enough," Tamar said, struck by the 
 man's almost passionate earnestness.
 
 110 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Wo shall send you toys tomorrow," the Representa- 
 tive's wife promised. " Toys and dolls from the Santa 
 Claus ship. I'll see about them myself." 
 
 The Commandant's face lit up. She might have been 
 promising him a kingdom. He was deeply concerned 
 for the welfare of his charges. He told them how he 
 was all the time trying to make improvements in the ac- 
 commodation for the men and women upstairs, and ar- 
 range for separate married quarters, but that at pres- 
 ent well, all one could say was that this was at least 
 better than the barges. And he held up his hands, as 
 if in horror of the remembrance. The Canadian jour- 
 nalist, who alone of the party had seen the barges with 
 their crowded human cargoes in the holds, without heat, 
 without light, without air, said : 
 
 " Herr Commandant, this is a Paradise compared 
 with the barges. I shall never think of them without 
 a shudder. If one needed to know something of Bel- 
 gium's first agony, the barges alone would have taught 
 one." 
 
 " We have only just begun to be able to handle the 
 problem of the refugees," the Commandant explained. 
 " It has been overwhelming. Tens of thousands have 
 swept like an avalanche over our borders. But we are 
 beginning to surmount the difficulties. If you are go- 
 ing on to Bergen-op-Zoom, you will see a very different 
 condition of things there." 
 
 " But never a Commandant who will care so much," 
 they all thought. 
 
 His parting injunction was about the toys and dolls. 
 
 " Don't forget the toys and dolls to make the little 
 children happy," he said.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 111 
 
 They motored straight away to Bergen-op-Zoom, 
 passing over the very road where the avalanche of refu- 
 gees had, in their first horror, broken over the frontier 
 on the day of the bombardment of Antwerp. For sixty 
 hours the long procession of humanity crushed without 
 a break from Antwerp to Rosendaal, and on the way 
 many women went through the birth-agony, and some 
 died by the roadside. The Canadian journalist, who 
 had been present at Rosendaal, described the scene in a 
 few graphic words, which touched the imagination of his 
 hearers. They saw it with their mind's eye. 
 
 " A seething mass of people and possessions," he said, 
 " old and young, strong and frail, the babe in arms, the 
 child clinging to its mother's skirts, the old, blind 
 woman led by a tiny boy, the lame limping on crutches 
 and canes, with no one to carry their load of bundles 
 their only worldly goods. Women in remnants of lux- 
 ury, girls with pet dogs under their arms, family groups 
 huddled together, driven onwards in the hurrying hu- 
 man stream, pitiful possessions borne painfully along, 
 bedding and pots and pans, and here and there a child's 
 plaything too dear to leave behind, terror and despair 
 and bewilderment on every face and the goal of the 
 fugitives anywhere, anywhere to be safe from German 
 fury, German ruthlessness, German * Kultur.' ' 
 
 At Bergen-op-Zoom the refugee quarters had become 
 a city of tents, situate on high ground carefully chosen 
 by the military authorities for this reason. The sight 
 of the thousands of tents was very picturesque. Some 
 of the tents were nicely kept, and were surrounded by 
 some attempt at a sand garden. Most of them had a 
 fire, and round this the family gathered gratefully,
 
 112 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 thankful to have their own separate little establishment. 
 The family refugee dog was conspicuous everywhere, 
 keeping careful watch and barking at all intruders who 
 dared to invade the privacy of the home. The tents 
 were in general the abode of the better class, who chose 
 them in preference to the barracks which were arranged 
 in compartments for several families, all partitioned off 
 from each other, and all steaming hot, close and stuffy. 
 But the class of refugees who inhabited them, seemed to 
 like this condition of life and would never have been 
 persuaded to live in tents. These were called the sec- 
 ond grade of refugee. 
 
 The third grade were housed chiefly by their own de- 
 sire in one huge tent, like a large circus tent, with indi- 
 vidual little households, it is true, but not screened off 
 a communal life, in fact. They had their own burgo- 
 master. This tent presented a most curious and inter- 
 esting sight, with many separate fires and lights and 
 groups of people, and pathways arranged as if in a toy 
 village on a large scale. The whole effect was exactly 
 like a scene from a play. The people here looked hap- 
 pier than anywhere, and the children were playing about 
 gaily. One even heard laughter. 
 
 The fourth grade were lodged in caravans, and con- 
 sisted of the very low and criminal class ; and these were 
 screened off from the rest of the camp by barbed wire, 
 and watched over by sentries. A school was in prog- 
 ress of being erected; and the Dutch Government was 
 adding a church and a library for this settlement. 
 Baths had already been built, and there was a medical 
 department with a special depot, where nursing mothers 
 went to get an order for extra milk and white bread. 
 The arrangements here were indeed a far cry from the
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 113 
 
 desolate Rosendaal granary, and were a sure sign to 
 the visitors of the fine purpose and goodwill of the gen- 
 erous Dutch, and of their determination to handle their 
 most difficult refugee problem with all possible means, 
 both practical and benevolent, in their power. 
 
 The Commandant said that the tragedy of the pres- 
 ent situation was the unemployment existing among the 
 exiles, which would inevitably lead to rapid demoraliza- 
 tion if not dealt with. He pointed to the groups of men 
 sitting around, either playing cards or doing nothing; 
 and indeed it was a pitiful sight to see able-bodied peo- 
 ple, industrious by nature, with no duties to perform 
 and no claims to which they had to answer. 
 
 " We shall start work-rooms as soon as we are able," 
 he said. " At the moment, though, all we can do is to 
 house and feed them." 
 
 Gertrude Linton whispered to Tamar : 
 
 " I should like to start a work-room for the women. 
 What do you say to wool carpets and rugs? I shall 
 buy up all the wool I can whilst it's cheap, and get the 
 Friends who are helping the Dutch to suggest this in- 
 dustry to the authorities when the time comes." 
 
 The Commandant was then called away ; but he left 
 the party in charge of a young officer, and told him to 
 help Miss Linton in her search for the missing young 
 girl, Marie Louise Gerardin, Ruelle Josephine, Malines. 
 He did not think there was any young girl amongst the 
 people who had lost their memory and did not know 
 where they came from. They were older women and a 
 few men. Still, she had better look round and then she 
 would be satisfied. 
 
 He seemed to part from them all with regret, and in- 
 vited them to visit him again and see the improvements
 
 114 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 which he hoped to make. The young officer took the 
 piece of paper and read the description of Marie Louise 
 Gerardin aloud : 
 
 ** Marie Louise Gerardin, age about fifteen, slight of 
 build, with blue eyes, long eyelashes, fair, beautiful and 
 of a merry disposition." 
 
 They wandered with him amongst the refugees, keep- 
 ing their eyes open for any one who answered to that 
 description ; and Miss Linton made inquiries of some of 
 the families in a language which the Representative's 
 wife called her " patent patois," and which was an 
 amazing mixture of Dutch, German, Flemish and Ger- 
 trude Linton. But it evidently " did the trick," and 
 that was the main point ! Every one seemed to under- 
 stand her, but no one could give her any information 
 about the missing girl. Then the officer took them to 
 a tent where two or three of the refugees who had lost 
 their memory were sitting huddled together, known by 
 no one, claimed by no one, dazed, forlorn, despairing. 
 But, as the Commandant had said, there was no young 
 girl amongst them. They were pathetic figures, haunt- 
 ing remembrances. And the visitors turned away with 
 heavy hearts. 
 
 '* There are still one or two railway sheds at Flushing 
 full of refugees who have not yet been drafted off to the 
 settlements, and also two or three barges," the officer 
 told them. " It would be worth while to look there. 
 But we'll do our best to search this camp thoroughly. 
 It will probably be my duty, and I will carry it out most 
 willingly, I promise you." 
 
 He conducted them finally to their cars, talking to 
 them in the same admirable English as the Command- 
 ant's and evidently as pleased as his superior officer to
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 115 
 
 have the chance of airing his ability. They were all im- 
 pressed with the kindness and the pitifulness of the of- 
 ficers. The tragic fate of Belgium seemed to have 
 touched them very deeply, probably all the more so 
 because they realized that only a bare chance had saved 
 their own country from a similar misfortune. 
 
 The experiences of the party were by no means over 
 yet. They tried to get lunch at a hotel at Bergen-op- 
 Zoom, but were rudely refused by the proprietor, who 
 was either a German or a pro-German. At the second 
 hotel they had better luck, and had, moreover, the in- 
 terest of meeting two Belgian ladies who had on the pre- 
 vious evening escaped over the frontier in the cart of 
 a peasant, to whom they gave a large sum of money for 
 hiding them amongst his sacks of vegetables. But he 
 and they had run the risk of being shot, the fate of 
 scores upon scores of fugitives. One of these ladies 
 had a villa, where she had nursed many of the English 
 soldiers. She spoke with much feeling of their chivalry 
 and their gratitude. 
 
 When Bramfield heard that they were making for 
 England, he at once offered to take care of them and 
 carry out the arrangements for their passage. The 
 Representative and his wife pressed them to motor back 
 with them to Rotterdam, and wait there rather than at 
 a place so near the frontier as Bergen-op-Zoom. They 
 accepted eagerly, but broke down suddenly and wept 
 at finding friends thus unexpectedly raised up for them. 
 They were both scared and unnerved by the dangers 
 through which they had passed and the awful sights 
 they had seen. But the older lady looked half dead with 
 fright, and yet was in a state of great agitation which 
 her friend tried to control. Very charming and touch-
 
 116 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 ing was the way in which they expressed their gratitude 
 to each member of the little company. 
 
 " Nothing to thank for," said the Representative in 
 marvellously abominable French which cheered every 
 one, including the two fugitives. " The war makes com- 
 rades of us all at a moment's notice. That is as it 
 should be." 
 
 " We have money for our passage to England," the 
 older lady said, suddenly clutching at her bodice and in 
 her excitement tearing out a small bag which fell on the 
 table. The string broke, and very beautiful jewels were 
 strewn about many gorgeous rings and earrings and 
 brooches, and amongst them a costly pearl ring. 
 
 A low cry escaped Tamar. The unexpected vision 
 excited her almost beyond her control. She forgot 
 everything on earth except that there, on the other side 
 of the table, lay some most attractive precious stones 
 in settings of finest workmanship. In another moment, 
 she would undoubtedly have clutched hold of them, but 
 that an irresistible prompting impelled her to look in 
 Bramfield's direction. He was staring at her with 
 horror on his face. He had turned deadly pale. He 
 fixed her with his eyes. He paralysed her. He saved 
 her. Tamar sat motionless, ashamed the temptation 
 over. No one except he and she knew of this drama of 
 briefest duration, but of burning intensity. 
 
 " Ah, plenty of money there," said the Representative 
 with a laugh. " But hide them all away quickly. See 
 here, shove them in my wife's satchel, and stick it in 
 your corsage. That's right. Good God ! you might 
 havd been murdered for them by the very people who 
 effected your escape. It makes one shudder to think of 
 it. And now let's be off."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 117 
 
 They returned by the same route, over the same road 
 traversed by those thousands of refugees in their meas- 
 ureless misery a trail made sacred by human suffer- 
 ing. They were all silent, tired out and haunted and 
 held by memories of what they had seen that day. The 
 car containing the Representative and his wife, the two 
 Belgian ladies and Bramfield, had preceded the second 
 one in which the remainder of the party travelled to 
 Rotterdam. The second car arrived about fifteen min- 
 utes later. Bramfield was waiting at the entrance of 
 their hotel. He stood with head uncovered. 
 
 " Friends," he said in a low voice, " I have something 
 dreadful to tell you. We found one of the Belgian la- 
 dies had died in the car. We thought she was sleeping 
 only. It was the lady with the jewels." 
 
 Alone in her room that night, Tamar sat watching 
 the lights in the harbours. Sleep would not come to 
 her. Shame would not leave her. 
 
 A cry was wrung from her very soul. 
 
 " Woe is me, woe is me that I am what I am," she 
 murmured.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 IT is difficult to know what they would all have done 
 without the gracious presence of the Representa- 
 tive's wife and the exhilarating influence of Gertrude 
 Linton on the following day. The tragedy of the Bel- 
 gian lady's death culminating on all the heartrending 
 scenes they had witnessed, took an immense effect on 
 every one of them. Miss Linton was longing to renew 
 her search for Marie Louise, but instead, she set on foot 
 a wool campaign, and demanded that every one should 
 help her by sallying forth separately and buying as 
 much wool as could be secured whilst the price was still 
 low. She said the carpet and rug scheme had got on 
 her brain, and she would not rest until she had carried 
 it out. No one was let off; and the friendly rivalry 
 thus established certainly raised the spirits of the com- 
 munity. And the Representative's wife reminded them 
 that they had promised to pack and send off toys and 
 dolls to the Rosendaal children, and must not fail to 
 keep their word. So she requisitioned the little steam 
 launch flying the American flag, and commandeered 
 their services for the work; and they spent a busy 
 morning at the wharf. They came back looking differ- 
 ent people after their healing task of ministering to the 
 toyless little children whom the Commandant loved. 
 Tamar, whose grim sadness of heart no one guessed, was 
 secretly comforted too. For, as the Canadian jour- 
 nalist said, the most hardened person in the world, hav- 
 ing seen the sad scenes at Rosendaal and elsewhere, 
 
 118
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 119 
 
 could not fail to consider himself fortunate indeed to 
 have the chance of bringing a smile to the face of even 
 one little one. Tamar could not have put that thought 
 into words, but it was borne to her subconsciously, 
 whilst to the Representative's wife it came with a deep 
 and tender realization. 
 
 In the afternoon it was arranged that they were all 
 to meet for tea at the offices of the Commission, in an 
 old and spacious house in the Haringvliet, where at one 
 time the herring fleet used to land. Here they found 
 one or two deputies from Namur, Lierre and Liege, 
 some members of the Belgian Comite de Secours and also 
 of the Dutch Committee, and the Dutch Shipping Agent 
 who had looked in to bring the good news of a wireless 
 at the Lizard from a relief ship well on its way. There 
 were also the American military attache at The Hague, 
 a Belgian artist, who was going back to Malines to try 
 and rescue his pictures and was never heard of again, 
 and another Rhodes scholar attached to the Commis- 
 sion, who had been stationed at one of the depots in Bel- 
 gium to receive the barges and check the cargoes as they 
 passed through that particular outpost on their way to 
 their several destinations. There was also 'an English 
 authoress who was engaged in writing an appeal for 
 funds for the Commission, and who was sitting at table 
 looking fairly distraught, and surrounded by weekly 
 lists of cargoes arranged, cargoes dispatched, cargoes 
 arrived, photographs of vessels, letters of appeal for 
 help from the Burgomasters and priests of the starving 
 communes, and whole portfolios of reports and docu- 
 meuts, including copies of the German undertaking that 
 the Relief food should not be requisitioned. 
 
 " Such a mass of material, I don't know where to
 
 120 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 turn," she said to Tamar, who was standing by her, 
 looking at the photographs. 
 
 " Go down and see one of the vessels first," Tamar 
 suggested. " That will help you more than anything. 
 Even I felt I could write an appeal when I saw those car- 
 goes of mercy." 
 
 " Cargoes of mercy ! " exclaimed the authoress. 
 " You've given me the title, and given me the idea. 
 I'll take your advice and then I shall be able to go 
 ahead." 
 
 Tamar looked pleased. 
 
 " Well, I've always understood that statistics killed 
 imagination," she said. 
 
 Bramfield was pleased. He was always tenderly glad 
 when Tamar scored a point. 
 
 " Why, Tamar," he said with a smile, " it appears 
 there's no end to your resources. You found out some- 
 thing valuable about a spy's appearance, and now you 
 invent a good title a remarkable performance that." 
 
 " And she ferreted out the largest quantity of wool 
 this morning at an unheard-of bargain," said Gertrude 
 Linton, laughing. " A very clever confederate, isn't 
 she, Mr. Bramfield? " 
 
 " Yes, especially about bargains," he answered with a 
 twinkle in his eye. " I'd back her there against any 
 one in the world except perhaps a certain old We- 
 duwe, near Alkmaar, eh, T. Scott ? " 
 
 " That remains to be proved, Bramfield," she an- 
 swered, a slight smile passing over her face. 
 
 They walked back to the hotel together. Neither of 
 them had made the slightest allusion to the silent battle 
 which had taken place between them at Bergen-op- 
 Zoom. Yet Tamar was longing to confess her shame
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 121 
 
 and to thank him for the check he had put on her. But 
 pride forbade her. And chivalry restrained Bramfield 
 from showing any sign of sympathy with her shame and 
 suffering. For he knew that she had suffered. He 
 knew well that set, stubborn look on her face, that strain 
 in her eyes, and a curious, almost imperceptible, shrink- 
 ing together of her shoulders as though she were hiding 
 something in her breast. He longed to say one word 
 to comfort her, but could not, dared not. So in tense 
 silence they passed over the bridge amidst a forest of 
 masts and alongside the quay, until they nearly reached 
 their hotel. And then suddenly he was able to find 
 words to convey comfort, indirectly, surreptitiously, 
 and yet definitely. 
 
 " Tamar," he said, " you won't mind delaying our 
 departure for a day or two? There are things to be 
 seen to about that poor lady's affairs, and of course 
 there is the funeral which her friend will attend. And 
 as we could not dream of letting her go to England 
 alone in her distress, we must remain for a while. I 
 reckon on your help in this sad business. You will help 
 me to look after her, won't you? " 
 
 Tamar did not answer at the time, could not answer. 
 If she could have framed a reply at all, she would have 
 said : " Bramfield, I know, and I understand and I 
 thank you." But what she did say, when at last she 
 found utterance, was : 
 
 " I will do what I can, Bramfield." 
 
 He nodded. She added : 
 
 " I have promised to go with Miss Linton on her 
 search for that missing girl." 
 
 " You like Gertrude Linton? " he said. " I thought 
 you would."
 
 122 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Yes, I like her," she answered " and I envy her. 
 She at least would never clutch at jewels." 
 
 " Hush, hush, my dear friend," he said gently. 
 " You must let that pain pass. You must indeed." 
 
 But evn in the darkness of the night he knew that she 
 shook her head. 
 
 She went with Gertrude Linton on the search for 
 Marie Louise the next day. They began by visiting the 
 one remaining barge in Rotterdam, where there were 
 still a few refugees, and then a large building, a sort 
 of hotel for emigrants, which was now being used to 
 house a few hundred of the fugitives. They found no 
 one to answer to Marie Louise's name or description; 
 nor did any of the clues they had to her identity and 
 surroundings encourage them to believe that they would 
 run her to earth anywhere. Her name was Marie Lou- 
 ise Gerardin, her age about fifteen ; she was said to be 
 fair, slight of build, with blue eyes, long eyelashed, 
 merry by disposition; her address was 8, Ruelle Jo- 
 sephine, Malines ; her sister's name was Amarice, aged 
 six years, and very dear to her, and this little one was 
 safe in England with the grandparents who were living 
 in Dulwich, in the house of one of Miss Linton's cousins. 
 It was from them that she had received these few de- 
 tails, together with a letter begging her to try and find 
 the elder girl. Her grandparents were fretting their 
 hearts away, and, ran the letter, " We hear the old lady 
 crying in the night: * Marie Marie, chere petite 
 Marie.' It is not to be stood. Try all you can to find 
 her." There was one other little detail added, which 
 seemed insignificant enough. The little sister was cry- 
 ing always for her faithful playmate, Fido, an old
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 123 
 
 brown dog, good-hearted and long-suffering, the true 
 friend of the family. 
 
 This information was scant enough, in all truth ; but 
 Gertrude Linton was blessed with a temperament which 
 could never be easily daunted. She was always ready 
 to start off in a fresh direction on the slightest encour- 
 agement, and on the barest chance of success. Tamar, 
 entirely unaccustomed to exhibitions of such spontane- 
 ousness and indifference to fatigue or discomfort or 
 distance, considered her companion to be hopelessly 
 mad. But she did not attempt to dishearten her. She 
 merely wondered in an amused, amazed sort of way, 
 what they were going to do next, and even laughed when 
 Miss Linton said gaily: 
 
 " Well, that was a distinct failure. But never mind. 
 Perhaps our next venture will be a success." 
 
 Their next venture proved also to be a failure. 
 They went to a little village not far from Rosendaal, 
 where, so they learnt from the Dutch Committee, there 
 was a Belgian woman from Aerschot, whose husband 
 had been shot by the Germans on the day when they 
 entered that peaceful village. She had flown with her 
 children, and on her way had found and protected a 
 young girl claimed by no one. Perhaps this child was 
 Marie Louise. After a dreary walk along a desolate 
 side canal, they came to the house and knocked at the 
 door. A woman, after some delay, opened it. She 
 was weeping bitterly. She told them her little baby 
 had died. She had just folded its little hands, and 
 lighted the candle. " Mesdames would like to come up 
 and see the little one? " she said. 
 
 They went into the tiny room, almost a cupboard, 
 made sacred and stately by the presence of death.
 
 124 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 The little dead face wore an expression of grave, sad 
 wisdom, which had soared and bade others soar beyond 
 the happenings of this life. 
 
 Then the mother led them away to the kitchen where 
 the other children were sitting, frightened and quelled 
 as children often are by death. But in a moment Ger- 
 trude Linton had them round her, and little tongues 
 began to talk and little hands to make free with her 
 satchel. And the Belgian said through her tears : 
 
 " It is good that Madame has come to . cheer them. 
 Madame has the right way with children." 
 
 But she had no stranger amongst her flock; and so 
 once again the j ourney had been in vain as far as Marie 
 Louise was concerned. Still Miss Linton would not 
 give up the search; and she and Tamar went off to 
 Flushing, where they visited two railway sheds full of 
 refugees the most awful places they had yet seen. 
 They were almost thankful not to have found Marie 
 Louise in those vile surroundings. Then they looked 
 for her in two barges, always in vain; and having, as 
 they believed, come to the end of all their chances, were 
 prepared to relax their efforts, when some one told 
 them that there was yet another barge a little farther 
 down, past the railway sheds. One of the head officials, 
 who knew Miss Linton well, conducted them to the spot, 
 helped them to clamber over the side of the wharf on to 
 another barge, and thence on to the last remaining 
 barge, said to contain a few refugees who had not been 
 " collected." 
 
 " There were a few yesterday," he said. " But they 
 may have been cleared off by now. The authorities are 
 sending them off as soon as possible to better quarters, 
 but it takes time, with so many thousands to see after."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 125 
 
 They stumbled down the ladder which led to the hold, 
 and had nearly reached the bottom step when their 
 guide said: 
 
 " I believe this was where they left the poor little 
 creature who had gone mad. Perhaps I'd better go 
 first and make sure that it is all right. I'd forgotten 
 that." 
 
 But they did not heed him, and landed in the hold, 
 which was in darkness save for the light shed by a small 
 kerosene lamp on a stool. They could see about four 
 or five people, three men and two women, huddled round 
 it. These looked up, but made no sign of greeting to 
 the visitors. The sound of a low moaning was heard 
 at the further end. Their guide raised the lamp and 
 directed it on the figure of a young, frail girl, swaying 
 to and fro on a broken chair, a piteous object, a de- 
 plorable wreck of youth and loveliness. 
 
 Gertrude Linton bent over her. 
 
 " Marie Louise," she said. " Marie Louise Gerar- 
 din." 
 
 There was no sign of intelligence. The girl continued 
 to moan and to rock herself backwards and forwards. 
 Miss Linton tried her with the name of the town and 
 the street where Marie Louise had lived. She tried her 
 with the words grand'mere, grandpere. All in vain. 
 She tried her with the name of Marie's little sister, 
 Amarice. Was there an almost imperceptible pause in 
 the moaning, a faint trace of interest on that blank 
 countenance? They held their breath in suspense. 
 The moaning continued. The flicker went out. 
 
 " Fair, young, beautiful, with blue eyes, long eye- 
 lashes, merry," said the description. 
 
 Could she once have answered to it? How were they
 
 126 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 to know? They looked at each other as if searching 
 for counsel, torn with pity, distressed with doubt. 
 
 Suddenly an inspiration came to Tamar. 
 
 " You have tried everything," she said in a whisper. 
 " But wasn't there something about a dog? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, of course there was," Gertrude Linton ex- 
 claimed. " Fido, the dog, the old brown dog whom the 
 sister was always crying for. I'll try her with that." 
 
 And she walked a few steps away, and then began 
 calling : 
 
 " Fido, Fido, Fido, come here." 
 
 There was no sign. 
 
 Again she called: 
 
 " Fido, Fido." 
 
 The anxious watchers in that dark, cold, desolate 
 hold saw a slight quiver pass over the girl's face. She 
 ceased her piteous moaning, ceased the restless rocking 
 to and fro. She seemed as if she were going to rise, 
 but could not. 
 
 And again Miss Linton called: 
 
 " Fido, Fido, come here, naughty little dog. Ama- 
 rice wants you, Fido, Fido." 
 
 The girl sprang up. 
 
 " Fido, Fido," she cried. " Amarice wants you." 
 
 She burst into passionate tears. 
 
 The search was over.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 IT was characteristic of Gertrude Linton that, once 
 having found Marie Louise, she did not lose sight 
 of her for a moment. Rather than leave her at the 
 Friends' Refuge Hostel in Flushing, where she would 
 have been tenderly cared for, she took her back to Rot- 
 terdam for a few days whilst she finished up some busi- 
 ness there. She feared that if the girl were separated 
 from her, she might at once relapse into the condition 
 of entire mental blankness in which Tamar and she had 
 found her; and, even as it was, Marie Louise's improve- 
 ment was but slight, fluctuating, and the reverse of 
 reassuring. But this did not daunt Miss Linton. The 
 great point to her was that this child probably was 
 Marie Louise, that she must be handed over to the 
 grandparents for identification, and that if she did not 
 belong to them, then 
 
 " Then what? " asked T. Scott. 
 
 " Oh, then I must adopt her myself ! " Miss Linton 
 said with a laugh. " That's simple enough. Some one 
 has got to look after her. Perhaps you would like 
 to?" 
 
 Tamar laughed a soft, low laugh. The idea of her 
 adopting any one amused her immensely. 
 
 " I should like to see myself adopting any one," she 
 said with a grim smile. " You see, I'm well I 
 don't mind telling you I'm mean. I part with my 
 money with difficulty." 
 
 " Oh, I daresay that is only a habit/' Miss Linton 
 127
 
 128 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 said gaily. " And the war is changing all our habits. 
 You will probably change too, and want to adopt num- 
 berless refugee children." 
 
 Tamar certainly had now far more chance of chang- 
 ing than if she had remained shut up in her shop in 
 Dean Street, centred on her own affairs, and affected 
 by the war only in as much as it had given her the op- 
 portunity of buying beautiful bits of jewellery cheaply 
 and selling others at a specially handsome profit. Her 
 intercourse with the Thorntons, the result of her visit 
 to Lallington, had opened her eyes to some new aspects 
 of life, which had arrested her attention more even than 
 she knew; but in Holland some of the tragic conse- 
 quences of the war had literally been hurled at her mind. 
 The impact wrought in her a mighty awakening to out- 
 side influences of many kinds. 
 
 She was learning, too, something about people from a 
 standpoint different from that of a business relation- 
 ship. The men and women to whom Bramfield had in- 
 troduced her amazed her. He Mhiself perhaps amazed 
 her as much as any one of them ; for she had either been 
 blind to his best qualities, or else unable to put a right 
 value on what he was, what he stood for. His disin- 
 terestedness dumbfounded her. Indeed, the disinterest- 
 edness of them all was a revelation to her. If she was 
 taking no other lesson back from Holland, she was at 
 least taking that. 
 
 Her traditions from her mother, her own natural dis- 
 position, her method of life, the trend of her thoughts 
 were entirely alien to it. But it haunted her. She 
 turned it over in her mind and contemplated it with the 
 same intensity with which she would have stared at a 
 precious stone which puzzled, defeated her. She exam-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 129 
 
 ined it, weighed it, applied all the tests she knew, and 
 finally had to acknowledge that she could make nothing 
 of it. But she recognized it as something beautiful, 
 though baffling, disturbing. Another characteristic of 
 these people which interested her greatly was the spon- 
 taneousness of their helpfulness. The need being there, 
 the deed was there. No questionings, no doubts, no de- 
 lays, no half-heartedness, but instant rising up, instant 
 coping with and overcoming every kind of difficulty and 
 obstruction. 
 
 She was borne along in the stream, unconscious of 
 the processes at work in her spirit, though increasingly 
 conscious of the new influences to which she was all the 
 time being exposed. She began to understand how im- 
 possible it was for any one to be on the scene and not 
 become part and parcel of this beneficent machinery 
 of effort on behalf of the hapless victims of the war. 
 She began to realize how Bramfield, for instance, com- 
 ing over originally for business purposes, no doubt, 
 had become caught in up to the hilt : how one small deed 
 of helpfulness led to another by natural consequence, 
 even as sunset follows on sunrise : and how of necessity 
 a camaraderie sprang up amongst the workers born of 
 common obstacles, common aims, common devotion and 
 enthusiasm. She even understood how all their sepa- 
 rate jobs were interwoven with each other so as to 
 form a harmonious whole. 
 
 Even if she had wished it, she could not have dissoci- 
 ated herself from their doings. She did not wish it. 
 She had promised Bramfield to help with the Belgian 
 lady, and she returned gladly with Gertrude Linton to 
 Rotterdam who expected her to take her share in look- 
 ing after Marie Louise.
 
 130 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 "You'll of course stand by, won't you?" she said. 
 " You'll give her a watchful eye whilst I'm running 
 about on my various duties? " 
 
 " Yes," Tamar answered. 
 
 She was proud that she had been allotted definite 
 tasks which she was expected as a matter of course to 
 perform. She rather wondered how many more people 
 she would be required to look after, but she was ready 
 for all demands. She was tired of having it taken for 
 granted by Bramfield that she could not be interested 
 in anything except her own affairs. So that when he, 
 too, claimed a service from her, as well as forgave her 
 for the ugliness he had checked in her, some tiny frond 
 of gracious willingness in her nature began to unfold 
 itself and struggle to the light. 
 
 She watched over the bereaved Belgian lady, and 
 would scarcely allow herself to be relieved by the Rep- 
 resentative's wife, always kind and considerate for 
 those around her. And she watched over little Marie 
 Louise. Miss Linton was very busy helping the Soci- 
 ety of Friends to initiate their campaign of reconstruc- 
 tion amongst the Belgians, and working with the Eng- 
 lish authorities at Flushing in arrangements for the 
 shipping of the refugees to England. And so it came 
 about that it was Tamar who saw most of the child. 
 It was Tamar who tried to capture and hold her fitful 
 mind, Tamar who bought clothes for her, Tamar who 
 found some bit of finery for her which coaxed a gleam 
 of pleasure into the distressed little face. It was 
 only momentary, but it was enough to encourage the 
 belief that Marie Louise was finding her way, slowly 
 and painfully perhaps, yet groping near the lost 
 trail.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 131 
 
 Once Tamar said to Bramfield: 
 
 " Now, if only I had a little jewel out of one of my 
 trays, I might give it to her." 
 
 He stared at her. She was amazing him by some of 
 the things she said and did now. Yet she was, after 
 all, only one of the many whom the war was releasing 
 from prison. In all directions citadels were being as- 
 sailed, and rays of light directed into the darkened re- 
 cesses of selfishness. The shop in Dean Street was but 
 typical of thousands of homes barricaded either in peace 
 or war time against all outside interests and influences, 
 except in so far as they would be likely to contribute 
 to the well-being and wealth of the people inside those 
 strongly-defended walls of partition. The war would 
 break them down, slowly perhaps, but one by one. 
 Once broken down, they would never be built up again. 
 T. Scott's citadel had at least the chance of falling 
 sooner than most people's, because tragic facts were 
 being brought home to her in a way denied to others 
 who, safe and comfortable and sheltered in England, 
 had no opportunity of realizing at first hand the suffer- 
 ing of a nation in agony. 
 
 The Belgian lady was laid to rest in Rotterdam, and 
 a few days afterwards her friend, together with Bram- 
 field, Tamar, Marie Louise and Miss Linton, left for 
 Flushing. 
 
 Captain Smith, who had been away some time, re- 
 turned the night before they left, and was amongst the 
 party who saw them off at the station. He had taken 
 a great liking for Tamar, and wanted her to 'come out 
 to Nova Scotia. Tamar laughingly said she would cer- 
 tainly come.
 
 132 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " If I want a convoy," the Captain said, " I'll send a 
 wireless to The Lizard." 
 
 Bramfield looked rather cross. He was not at all 
 pleased that any one else should even try to have an 
 innings with Tamar. 
 
 She parted from them all with a real regret. None of 
 them, neither the Skipper, nor the official messenger, 
 nor the Rhodes scholar, nor the Canadian journalist, 
 nor the Representative's wife, nor the Representative, 
 nor the Belgian deleguS, nor any of that gracious com- 
 pany, would ever know what they had done for her, what 
 they had been to her. They would pass on their way 
 and never know. 
 
 Bramfield was not in the best of tempers when they 
 arrived late at Flushing, and found that the Consul had 
 gone home and that they could not have their passports 
 vised. The steamer did not start till early the next 
 morning, but all passengers had to go on board over- 
 night. It was maddening to know the boat was at hand 
 and yet have to miss her. Bramfield, who had by now 
 worked himself into a great rage, determined to dash 
 off in a taxi to the Consul's house, and, if possible, bring 
 him back to his duties. Confound the wretched man, 
 why wasn't he at his post? Consuls oughtn't to want 
 any rest, any food, any leisure, any sleep in war time 
 or at any time. 
 
 Every one tried in vain .to calm him and reason with 
 him. But as he had made up his mind to run his man 
 to earth, and a taxi-cab had been produced after great 
 trouble, Tamar thought she had better go with him 
 and prevent him from attacking the chauffeur or any 
 one else he might come across on his way to his victim.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 133 
 
 It was half an hour's run out to the Consul's private 
 house, and during that time Bramfield never ceased to 
 storm and rage. When they arrived there, they 
 knocked and rang, and rang and knocked, without any 
 results except noise. He seemed beside himself with 
 temper. Not a sound, not a sign vouchsafed the house. 
 
 Tamar became vastly amused. 
 
 " You're making a complete fool of yourself, Bram- 
 field," she said calmly. " Until now I've believed you 
 to be a sensible man. I'd almost decided to make you 
 my executor. I certainly shall not now. Come away. 
 Probably the Consul is not here at all. And if he is, 
 he's evidently not intending to answer our summons. 
 And look there's a man watching us all the time 
 and no wonder. You'll be taken in charge as a madman 
 if you are not careful." 
 
 " Only a Secret Service man," Bramfield said, cooling 
 down a little. " Probably following you, Tamar. 
 Probably British, too. Probably suspecting you of 
 trading with the enemy. I warned you, you know. 
 One more try and then I'll give the game up." 
 
 " Come back and be sensible," she urged. 
 
 And at last she got him away and caged him safely 
 in the taxi-cab. 
 
 " I never knew you were such an entire fool, Bram- 
 field," she said. " But I've learnt many things about 
 you lately." 
 
 " Have you ? " he said, quieting down and lighting a 
 cigarette. "Good things, Tamar? Good enough to 
 make you love me, for instance? " 
 
 " Well, scarcely, after all this violent behaviour," she 
 answered with a laugh. " But good enough to . . ." 
 
 She hesitated.
 
 134 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Go on," he said. " Tell me the worst or the 
 best." 
 
 " Good enough to make me wish to be respected 
 by you not despised by you, Bramfield," she said. 
 
 " Despise you-f he fairly cried, snatching her hand. 
 " Why, such a thing is not possible." 
 
 " But you saw me clutch at the jewels," she said, with 
 an intensity half of anger, half of pleading. 
 
 " Clutch at all the jewels you like in all places and at 
 all seasons, and I could never despise you," he answered. 
 " Never." 
 
 " But you would try to stop me," she said slowly. 
 
 " I would try to stop you because I love you," he 
 said. " Love doesn't despise. Love understands 
 and wants to help." 
 
 Tarn a r made no answer. She did not withdraw her 
 hand. It was he who withdrew his. He remained si- 
 lent, thinking of her words, which gave him a new hope 
 and of which he would have scorned to take an unfair 
 advantage. 
 
 When he spoke again, it was about that uninvited 
 person, the Secret Service man, sitting comfortably in 
 front with the chauffeur, about consuls confound 
 them and this one in particular, and about that 
 wretched Canadian skipper. Oh, yes, a fine fellow and 
 no mistake. But what the dickens did he mean by in- 
 viting her to go to Nova Scotia? It was absurd. And 
 a liberty a great liberty. 
 
 " And what would you do there, I should like to 
 know ? " he asked defiantly. " Why, there would be 
 no bargains for you to make. You'd droop. You'd 
 die." 
 
 " Well, you needn't work yourself up into another
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 135 
 
 rage as silly as the last," she said quaintly. " I've not 
 gone yet, have I ? " 
 
 " No, and you won't if I can help it," he answered. 
 
 Tamar laughed. Bramfield was jealous, and she was 
 rather pleased. She was as sorry as he when the car 
 drew up at the hotel, and the escapade was over. 
 
 Gertrude Linton, who received them, told them she 
 had learnt that the Consul had been up day and night 
 for weeks past, and had had to seek safety in flight, in 
 order to secure a little continuous sleep ; and so it was 
 not to be wondered at that they had failed to bring the 
 poor man back. 
 
 " We've missed the boat, and must make the best of 
 it," she said. " This hotel is pro-German, and the con- 
 cierge, who has been exceedingly unfriendly, has refused 
 to help us to get anything to eat. But the German 
 chambermaid has been a brick, and has managed to 
 annex rolls and butter from the dining-room which is 
 shut up. We can turn into the smoking-room and have 
 a bite there." 
 
 Gretchen, the German chambermaid, looked in upon 
 them, friendly in manner and smiling of countenance. 
 
 " Ach ! I take no notice of the war," she said. " I 
 have no patience with the silly nations flying at each 
 other's throats in this silly fashion. Ja ! I can get 
 you some more butter if you want it. Ach, I was very 
 happy when I was in England. Two, three years I was 
 there in a very kind English family. I am thinking of 
 them now when I am doing this little service for you all. 
 And my Fritz is shut up in that Alexandra Palace. Ja, 
 he was hairdresser. A good, nice boy. Ach, ach, what 
 a world ! It seems we are all gone mad. And the poor 
 little Belgian girl upstairs. Ach, ach, what a sadness !
 
 136 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 But she's asleep now. I looked into the room. Ach, 
 mein Gott, and Madame weeping in the other room. I 
 have to weep, too." 
 
 " Probably a spy," Bramfield said when she was gone. 
 " Now be careful, Tamar. Don't give away any State 
 secrets." 
 
 But Gertrude Linton would not hear of Gretchen be- 
 ing a spy. 
 
 " Any one and every one, but not Gretchen," she said 
 staunchly. 
 
 But whatever Gretchen was, she had got the whole 
 thing in a nutshell. The world had gone mad. And 
 this was only the beginning of the madness. 
 
 The next day they saw more refugees in another rail- 
 way shed, and visited a few others who, having a little 
 money of their own, were quartered in some of the 
 poor houses in Flushing, waiting until their passage 
 to England could be arranged for. Then, to recover 
 from the scenes of misery and suffering, they accepted 
 the invitation of a Dutch naval officer, a friend of Bram- 
 field's, to inspect the submarine of which he was Com- 
 mander. He took them one by one into his magician's 
 chamber and tried to explain to their lay minds some of 
 the mechanism, diabolical, thrilling, marvellous. 
 
 This ended their experiences in Holland, but they had 
 many excitements on their journey home to England. 
 There were six or seven French escaped prisoners from 
 Germany on board, with whom Bramfield and Miss Lin- 
 ton had a talk on the quiet ; for it was a Dutch boat, and 
 the men might have had to be interned if the Captain 
 had chosen officially to recognize their presence. But 
 he did not. Sympathy with them, therefore, and active
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 137 
 
 help for them in the way of contributions of money and 
 cigarettes had to be proffered in a wise secrecy. There 
 was a man on board known by the Secret Service to be 
 a German spy, who had hitherto eluded all the people on 
 the look-out for him ; and he was going to be seized the 
 moment he set foot on English soil. And there was a 
 very handsome woman of the prima donna type, the Ger- 
 man wife of an Englishman interned in Ruhleben, but 
 suspected of being in sympathy with the enemy and a 
 traitor. She, being a British subject, was allowed to 
 proceed, but was being closely watched and followed. 
 To crown all, the man with the false hand was on board. 
 He was disguised. Tamar's attention was drawn to him 
 by a curious tie-pin he wore. It was an alexandrite 
 cat's-eye and a beautiful specimen, too, of that rare 
 stone. She stared at it, stared at him, and once again 
 observed the stiff arm, the hand of which was thrust into 
 his coat pocket. He had travelled first class, but dis- 
 appeared before the end of the journey. Bramfield, to 
 whom Tamar confided her discovery, found him stowed 
 away in the second class. He would not be landing, of 
 course, but would be trying to get into communication 
 with some confederate in port. 
 
 " He'll be dished sooner or later," Bramfield said. 
 " We're not so silly as we appear. Do you remember 
 what the Representative said about our Secret Service? 
 He said he couldn't slice an orange without our Secret 
 Service knowing of it. I must say it has been a comfort 
 to me to hear that." 
 
 " Well, let's hope we do something as well as know 
 something," Tamar said grimly. 
 
 " Why, Tamar, you're becoming quite patriotic," he 
 said. " You'll be enlisting soon."
 
 138 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 She laughed a soft little laugh. More and more did 
 she like it when Bramfield teased her. 
 
 They landed, and after many preliminaries and much 
 waiting, finally got free from the authorities and pro- 
 ceeded on their way. But now an unforeseen difficulty 
 arose. Bramfield had arranged to take the Belgian 
 lady, who had borne the journey very well, to her 
 friends in Baling, and Gertrude Linton intended to de- 
 posit Marie Louise at her cousin's house and then ac- 
 quaint grandpere and grand'mere Grardin that some 
 one had been found who might possibly, indeed very 
 probably, prove to be their grand-daughter, but that 
 owing to her mental condition and the loss of her mem- 
 ory and her pitiful appearance, no stranger could be 
 sure of her identity. So the kindest plan was to ex- 
 plain the position before they saw her, and thus fortify 
 them against what might prove to be a bitter disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 But when it came to parting with Tamar, Marie Lou- 
 ise clung to her with might and main, and showed every 
 sign of developing all her worst symptoms, from the 
 early severity of which she had been somewhat weaned. 
 Nothing would make her budge from T. Scott's side. 
 This was entirely a new experience to Tamar. Never 
 before had any one dared or cared to take possession of 
 her in this way. She looked at Marie Louise and 
 looked at Gertrude Linton, said nothing, felt a bit 
 sheepish, embarrassed, doubtful. Miss Linton settled 
 things in her own patent fashion. 
 
 " Oh, well, T. Scott," she said gaily, " we must come 
 and sleep at your house. There's nothing else to be 
 done."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 139 
 
 " Sleep at my house," Tamar repeated, aghast. 
 ** Why, no one has ever done that." 
 
 " Well, it's about time they did," answered Miss Lin- 
 ton, nothing daunted. " Any old shakedown will do. 
 I suppose you have a chair or two, haven't you? And 
 a rug or two? What more do we want? Cheer up! 
 It's your own fault, you know. You ought not to have 
 been so good to the girl. Clearly you will have to be 
 the one to adopt her if she doesn't belong to these peo- 
 ple! Or we'll share her together. Come along; we 
 can't stand here hesitating. Marie Louise will make a 
 scene. We can buy food on our way. 'The great point 
 is to get a roof over our heads, side by side with you." 
 
 Marie Louise and Miss Linton gained the day, but 
 Tamar's face was a study in bewilderment mingled with 
 increasing pleasure, decreasing sullenness, new-born 
 tenderness. 
 
 It would have needed a harder heart than Tamar's 
 not to have responded to the human appeal of the little 
 forlorn refugee who clung so tightly to her skirt as if 
 in terror of being torn asunder from a protecting pres- 
 ence on which she had learnt to lean. 
 
 So they headed for Dean Street.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 MRS. BRIDGES, the old char, received them. She 
 had been warned by a telegram, the receipt of 
 which amazed her exceedingly. Never before had she 
 had a telegram from Tamar. Extravagance begets ex- 
 travagance, and she allowed herself the recklessness of 
 lighting a fire in the inner room, and took the risk of 
 being scolded roundly. But to her astonishment T. 
 Scott made no complaint. On the contrary, she 
 seemed pleased. She drew a chair to the fender, placed 
 Marie Louise in it, knelt down by her side and warmed 
 the child's hands. 
 
 " So this is your home, T. Scott," Miss Linton said, 
 warming her own hands and glancing round with inter- 
 est at the old china and the antiques. 
 
 " This is my home," Tamar said. 
 
 " Well I, for one, am glad to be going to spend the 
 night amongst such beautiful things," Gertrude Linton 
 said. " We can put Marie Louise on that Jacobean 
 couch, can't we? And I can sleep in the Jacobean 
 arm-chair. I suppose they are Jacobean ? " 
 
 Tamar nodded, and Miss Linton added: 
 
 " So you see we sha'n't really be disturbing you so 
 much, after all. You don't regret taking us in? " 
 
 " I have never had visitors before," Tamar answered, 
 a little surlily. 
 
 Miss Linton laughed. She was beginning to know 
 some of Tamar's characteristics. They did not alarm 
 
 140
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 141 
 
 her in the least. She believed, and rightly, that they 
 were negotiable. 
 
 " Don't be frightened by visitors," she said. " Vis- 
 itors are only formidable if they are allowed to be 
 so." 
 
 " Visitors," chuckled the old char to herself, as she 
 went to the kitchen with the coffee and rolls and butter 
 which they had brought in. " No, she's never had no 
 visitors before to sleep here, and not many to take so 
 much as a bite since I've been coming these last fifteen 
 years. And won't she just grudge them the food! I 
 know her, I do." 
 
 She was still chortling, when Tamar came into the 
 kitchen with another small parcel which she opened and 
 displayed to the astonished old woman as ham cut in 
 slices. 
 
 " Why," she said, " you're fair ruining yourself. 
 That's what you're doing. Perhaps I oughtn't to have 
 lit the fire. But I did say to myself if you was angry 
 I'd give you the bundle of wood myself and the coals 
 too." 
 
 A smile passed over Tamar's face. She and the old 
 woman understood each other. 
 
 " Make haste with the coffee," she urged. " And you 
 can do some toast. I'm quite willing to accept the 
 bundle of wood and the coals if you want me to. I have 
 a little present for you somewhere, a small bottle of 
 Dutch gin. Schiedam, they call it." 
 
 " I don't mind what they call it as long as I get it," 
 the old woman said. "A present for me. Well, I 
 never. Times is changed. I don't know where I am." 
 
 " Nor do I," said Tamar, with a good-tempered little 
 laugh. " But you are right. Times have changed
 
 142 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 and we've got to change with them. At least, it ap- 
 pears so. I'm not sure I like it." 
 
 *' It seems to suit you," the old woman remarked, as 
 she set about preparing the coffee. " You look as 
 though you'd been enjoying yourself for once. A good 
 thing to get away from them jewels and all the rubbish 
 here." 
 
 " I am glad to get home," Tamar said. " But I did 
 not expect to bring people back with me. But the little 
 Belgian refugee wouldn't be parted from me." 
 
 The old woman looked up from the coffee pot. 
 
 " Wouldn't be parted from you ? " she repeated, with 
 a puzzled grin on her face. 
 
 " No," said Tamar, with a slight tone of triumph in 
 her voice. " You think that strange, don't you? " 
 
 The old woman did not trust herself to speak. She 
 just nodded. 
 
 " I think it strange, too," Tamar said. " But, you 
 see, we rescued her from a dreadful place. It makes 
 me shudder when I think of that barge where we found 
 her. When I think of it, I don't mind having brought 
 her here in fact, I begin to be glad in a sort of 
 way. I shall put her in my bed tonight. I'll bring the 
 blankets down, and as there is a fire, we can air them 
 well." 
 
 The old woman stood staring after her. 
 
 " I'm fair dazed," she murmured. " Times is 
 changed. Not angry about the fire. Bread, butter, 
 ham and coffee for them all. The young girl sleeping 
 in her bed. Didn't forget the old woman. Brought a 
 present for her. What did she call it? Some outland- 
 ish name. But I don't mind what they call it as long 
 as I get it. A present for me."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 146 
 
 So Marie Louise, tucked up in warm blankets, went 
 to sleep in Tamar's bed, with her hand clasping tightly 
 Tamar's hand. Gertrude Linton chose the Jacobean 
 couch in the inner room, to which she appeared to have 
 taken a fancy, and Tamar, with a secret reluctance, 
 conceded it to her. For no one except herself had 
 rested on it since the day, long ago now, yet ever borne 
 in remembrance, when the only man she had loved, had 
 sought there a merciful repose at a moment of over- 
 whelming mental anxiety and intense bodily fatigue. 
 She had watched by his side throughout the night in 
 the same chair in which she was now keeping vigil ; for 
 when she found that she could not sleep on the sofa 
 in her room, she had thrown on her dressing-gown, bent 
 over Marie Louise to make sure the child was soundly 
 asleep and not likely to wake and miss her, and then 
 crept down to the inner room, where Miss Linton, en- 
 tirely hidden under a mountain of rugs and cloaks, was 
 dead to the world, oblivious of wars and refugees, 
 barges, internment camps, escaped French prisoners, 
 spies, Germans, Belgians, British Governments, Ameri- 
 can Relief Commissions, cargoes of mercy, Dutch Com- 
 mittees, and officials of every grade, and reconstruction 
 schemes of every variety. Tomorrow she would be alive 
 and keen again, with that magic vitality and that amaz- 
 ing disinterestedness which was an abiding wonder to 
 T. Scott. But meantime she was just that mountain of 
 rugs, nothing less, nothing more. No need to keep 
 vigil over her. 
 
 But even in this condition she was a link with all the 
 astonishing things Tamar had seen, with all the experi- 
 ences crowded into those three weeks ; and it was with 
 these happenings shared with her and with those other
 
 144 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 comrades left behind and with Bramfield as she now 
 knew him, that Tamar's thoughts kept vigil. No, not 
 with the dead, not with the past, but with the present, 
 with the overwhelming present which had thrust itself 
 upon her with a force she could not resist. Never could 
 she forgot what she had seen, heard, learnt. The world 
 at war. The world caught up in a network of tragedy. 
 An upheaval of life. Devastation and agony and 
 this only the beginning of the story. That was what 
 all those people over there said constantly the begin- 
 ning. It would go on, it would go on, it would go on, 
 so they said; and the sights and scenes they had been 
 witnessing there would prove to be mere incidents 
 an ushering in of larger and even more tragic conse- 
 quences. 
 
 And this was the knowledge she had brought back 
 from her quest for Dutch nefs. Rather laughable, 
 wasn't it ? Yes, she had gone for Dutch nefs, and she'd 
 got them and not only them, but all this disturbing, 
 disintegrating knowledge, and a disquieting foreboding 
 that the inner room and the outer shop were going to 
 lose their hold on her. That was ridiculous, of course. 
 She had never felt like that before. It was only because 
 she had been out of touch with the things most dear to 
 her. Three weeks and she had not handled a single 
 precious stone, except that emerald in the crow's-nest 
 of that lovely little nef. Ah, Bramfield might laugh 
 and tease her and be sceptical, but it remained true, 
 and would remain true, that she had never made a mis- 
 take about an emerald. About a ruby yes, she ad- 
 mitted, and she had kept it in the safe as a reminde~ of 
 her mistake. But about an emerald no.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 145 
 
 A desire seized her to have a look at her treasures 
 hidden away in the safe. She rose, and with trembling 
 hands, as the desire grew stronger and her passion for 
 precious stones leapt to a fierce flame, she detached from 
 her neck the ribbon with the key, and opened the safe. 
 And then she was once more in her own world, in those 
 magic realms in which she loved to wander. The outer 
 life fell from her as a garment. 
 
 Yes, they were all there, opals and pearls and rubies, 
 sapphires, emeralds and diamonds, all her choicest 
 treasures, and others of less value but prized for some 
 special characteristics which appealed to her fantasy. 
 Face to face with them again, she adored them, gloated 
 over them, crooned over them, could not bring herself 
 to leave them alone, but kept on taking them out, then 
 replacing them, then taking them out again, now in 
 batches, now singly, choosing out her favourites, and 
 so on and on with all the stones, even as a mother might 
 caress one child and then another and begin all over 
 again, laughing softly perhaps from very joy. So 
 Tamar laughed. She was extraordinarily happy, and 
 held in an ecstasy. 
 
 But suddenly she heard a cough. She remembered 
 then only that she was not alone, and glancing round, 
 saw that the mountain of rugs and cloaks had become 
 dislodged, and that Gertrude Linton was sitting up in 
 their midst, staring at her. Instinctively Tamar tried 
 to conceal her treasures by spreading her hands over 
 her lap in which they were reposing. 
 
 " What on earth did you do that for? " Miss Linton 
 asked. " I don't want to grab any of those footling 
 things."
 
 146 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Footling things, indeed," Tamar said indignantly. 
 " Why, they are most valuable priceless some of 
 them." 
 
 " Well, then, how rich you must be," the other re- 
 joined sleepily. " Why, you could charter dozens of 
 relief ships and adopt all the refugees in all the barges 
 and railway sheds. Not to speak of Marie Louise. 
 You must certainly adopt her, T. Scott. It's up to 
 you to do so. I won't after what I've seen. Well, 
 good-night again." 
 
 She disappeared beneath the rugs again, and was 
 soon sound asleep once more. Tamar sat for a while 
 with the jewels still spread in her lap, but she no longer 
 fingered them. 
 
 " She didn't want to clutch them," she said aloud. 
 And a shudder passed through her as she remembered 
 the incident at Bergen-op-Zoom, of which she remained 
 bitterly ashamed. 
 
 Again that amazing disinterestedness which had been 
 such a revelation to her held her thoughts. These 
 lovely stones in all their glittering beauty and the 
 only impression made by them on Gertrude Linton's 
 mind was their usefulness for chartering relief ships and 
 feeding and adopting refugees. Yes, there was some- 
 thing baffling in that quality of character. She would 
 never be able to understand it and never to acquire 
 it. Not if she lived a hundred, a thousand years. 
 
 Ah, what about Marie Louise upstairs? Was the 
 child sleeping peacefully? She had better go up and 
 see if all were well with her. But stay how \vould it 
 be if she found her a little trinket the sort of thing 
 she had wished to give her in Rotterdam something 
 which she herself did not very much mind parting from
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 147 
 
 something which would not be too great a sacrifice? 
 The child would be pleased, and the pleasure might be 
 helpful and healing. Nothing from the inner-room 
 safe, of course. That would be ridiculous. But per- 
 haps a little bracelet from one of the cheap trays in the 
 outer shop. That little thin, old-fashioned one with the 
 garnet in. No, that was too good. She could not give 
 that away. But there would be some other equally 
 suitable, and not so saleable. 
 
 Tamar shut the safe, lit a candle and crept into the 
 outer shop. She glanced around, and then stood as if 
 greeting the objects so familiar to her. She chose one 
 or two trays of mixed jewels, put them on the counter, 
 studied them attentively, and finally selected a tiny 
 pendant and a chain, imitation Renaissance, very 
 charming but not valuable. But, except Tom's amulet, 
 she had never before given anything away, and she was 
 therefore making a tremendous sacrifice of habit, if not 
 of money. Once she nearly restored the trinket to its 
 accustomed tray, but changed her mind and passed up- 
 stairs to her room. 
 
 Marie Louise was fast asleep, but moaning in her 
 dreams and murmuring: 
 
 ** Non, non, je reste avec toi; non, non, je reste avec 
 toi." 
 
 Very beautiful looked Tamar as she heard those 
 words. She knelt down by her side, and with a gentle- 
 ness of which no one could have thought her capable, 
 fastened the chain twice round the girl's wrist. 
 
 " She will find it when she wakes," she said.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 OFF to Dulwich sped Miss Linton, restored to life 
 and renewed endeavour after a night of repose en- 
 tirely undisturbed by thoughts of the war, or by haunt- 
 ing memories of that vision of precious stones vouch- 
 safed to her for one fleeting moment in the inner room. 
 Monsieur and Madame Gerardin, the old Belgian couple, 
 who were awaiting anxiously her report of the search, 
 received her with trembling excitement. Grand'mere 
 kept on saying: 
 
 "Ah, Madame, you would know her by her bright 
 eyes, dancing with happiness, and her joyous laugh. 
 Such a laugh, isn't it, Grandpere? " 
 
 But grandpere shook his head and said: 
 
 " Helas ! perhaps her young eyes were not bright any 
 longer, cherie ; and perhaps there was no ringing laugh- 
 ter such as we knew before these terrible times." 
 
 Then Gertrude Linton, with a merciful reticence, gave 
 an account of the young girl whom she had found in the 
 hold of the barge, alone and desolate, and not very 
 strong, and 
 
 " Well, you see," she said gently, " it often happens 
 that with a great shock, such as this poor child has had, 
 one's memory goes. But it comes back. Of course it 
 comes back. And this child, whoever she is, has alread}' 
 made some improvement. Every day makes a difference 
 to her. But we cannot be sure that she is your little 
 Marie Louise. Absolutely the only clue we went on, 
 
 148
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 149 
 
 was that she appears to recognize the name of the dog. 
 But we've brought her to England on the sporting 
 chance. And if you are destined to be disappointed, 
 all I can say is you must try to forgive us, and we will 
 go on with the search." 
 
 They thanked her with tears in their eyes, and started 
 off for Dean Street full of hope and of good courage, 
 buoyed up with Miss Linton's cheerfulness and belief 
 that good fortune might be awaiting them. 
 
 " There is no doubt," she said, " that Fido's name 
 did strike some chord in her memory. And wasn't it a 
 good idea to try her with that? It was not my idea. 
 It was the idea of the lady to whose house we are 
 going now. It was an inspiration simple, like all 
 inspirations." 
 
 " Ah," sighed Madame Gerardin, " if it could only 
 come true that Fido, always the good, patient friend of 
 the children, should on this occasion, too, prove to be 
 the kind friend of us all." 
 
 Gertrude Linton pressed the arm which clung to her 
 for support, repeated the story several times, at the 
 request now, of Grandpere, now of Grand'mere, listened 
 with unfailing interest to the history of Marie Louise 
 from the moment she had been born until the time when, 
 in the terrible flight, she had been torn from their side, 
 and nodded sympathetically as she heard the long list of 
 all her qualities and talents. Never in the world's his- 
 tory had there been such a wonderful young girl as 
 Marie Louise, never any one so sweet, so bright and so 
 beautiful. 
 
 " Of course not, of course not," said Miss Linton, 
 with a tug at her heart, as she saw with her mind's eye 
 that wreck of a young girl, desolate and suffering and
 
 150 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 distraught at the moment of her rescue, and even now 
 only at the beginning of a recovery which would prob- 
 ably take months of tender care. 
 
 And meanwhile Marie Louise was keeping company 
 with Tamar in the shop. She wore round her neck the 
 little chain and Renaissance pendant which she fiddled 
 with from time to time, to make sure that this treasure 
 was still in her safe possession. She was evidently de- 
 lighted with it, for she glanced at Tamar, pointed to it 
 and smiled a ghost of a smile. She had not yet arrived 
 at the stage of desiring conversation ; indeed, scarcely a 
 word escaped her lips. But her silence was a help 
 rather than a bar to successful intercourse with Tamar, 
 whose French, like that of some of England's Foreign 
 Officials, was strictly limited. She had, however, un- 
 earthed a French dictionary and placed it on the coun- 
 ter, in case of pressing need. But so far it had not been 
 called into requisition ; for there were far more easy and 
 agreeable means of intercommunion then mere language: 
 china figures, bronze figures, lovely silver boxes and 
 bonbonnieres, candle-sticks, crucifixes, benitiers, brass 
 warming-pans, cups and saucers and plates and cases of 
 rings and all sorts of jewellery and antiques. Tamar 
 reviewed her possessions, dusted them, searched the walls 
 with lynx-eyes to make sure that nothing was missing, 
 and was followed close at heel by Marie Louise, who 
 stared at the things intently, touched them now and 
 then, and was certainly interested in them, in her fright- 
 ened, bewildered way. But the sound of the shop-bell 
 sent her each time flying like some scared animal into the 
 inner room ; and on the fourth occasion Tamar showed 
 positive resentment to the unfortunate intruder who had
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 151 
 
 dared to enter the shop and cause a disturbance of the 
 atmosphere. 
 
 " Well, what do you want ? " she said in her brusque, 
 uncompromising way to the offending party, a lady well 
 on in years and dressed up to the ninth. 
 
 The criminal glared at her through her lorgnette and 
 answered : 
 
 " I did want that large silver buckle in your window. 
 I had taken a fancy to it. But I don't think I want to 
 buy anything from such an exceedingly rude person. I 
 cannot imagine you do much business if this is the way 
 you conduct your affairs." 
 
 Tamar smiled one of her grim smiles as the lady 
 walked out of the shop. 
 
 " She will return another time," she said. " They 
 always return when they take a fancy to a thing. And 
 as for business, well, my good woman with the lorgnette, 
 so far I have been able to save myself from the work- 
 house rudeness or no rudeness." 
 
 Then, the coast being clear, she coaxed her little 
 friend back, and was succeeding in amusing and inter- 
 esting Marie Louise's fitful mind, when once more the 
 bell rang, and off dashed the child. 
 
 But Grand'mere and Grandpere had seen her. They 
 followed her into the inner room, almost stumbling over 
 each other in their haste. 
 
 " Grand'mere ! Grandpere ! " cried the girl, as she 
 was gathered to their hearts. 
 
 Tamar leaned over the counter, staring into empty 
 space, and Gertrude Linton stood, with her eyes fixed 
 on the ground. Neither spoke. Before each of them
 
 152 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 rose a vision of that barge, the dim light, the desolation, 
 the despair of the scene, the girl in the far-off corner 
 rocking herself from side to side and moaning, always 
 moaning, forlorn, unclaimed, unloved, unidentified, lost, 
 doomed. 
 
 And they had found and rescued her.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ERTRUDE LINTON, after receiving further in- 
 structions for her work at Flushing, returned to 
 Holland. 
 
 Tamar and she parted from each other with marked 
 regret. 
 
 "Good-bye, T. Scott," she said, "but don't flatter 
 yourself that you've got rid of me. If I'm not torpe- 
 doed, you'll see me again soon. For very much do I 
 approve of Dean Street, the inner room and that Jaco- 
 bean couch where I had the best night's rest in my life. 
 You have not invited me to come again, but suppose I 
 did come? What then? You wouldn't turn me out, 
 would you ? " 
 
 " Probably not," Tamar said, with a soft little laugh. 
 
 " And supposing I was to bring another refugee with 
 me? " Miss Linton went on, half teasingly, half in ear- 
 nest. " For there's no knowing what might happen in 
 these strange days. Would you be likely to turn that 
 refugee out? " 
 
 " Probably not," Tamar answered. 
 
 "You haven't found visitors so formidable?" Ger- 
 trude Linton asked. 
 
 " No," Tamar said with a smile, " I've rather liked 
 them." 
 
 " All right, then," the other said. " Expect me at 
 any time, with any one! I may even have to ask you 
 to adopt some one. You know you really ought to 
 
 153
 
 154 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 adopt some one, now that we have landed Marie Louise 
 safely with her own people. Yes, you really ought, with 
 all that hidden wealth of yours. You must be rolling in 
 money, like the shipowners. I only caught a glimpse of 
 those treasures, partly because I was so sleepy and 
 partly because you hid them up at once. Did you 
 really think I was going to leap on you, murder you 
 and dash off with them ? I believe you did." 
 
 " If I had 'been the one to see them, I should have 
 wanted them," Tamar said, half ashamed, half sullen at 
 the remembrance of the precaution she had taken. 
 
 " Well, all I can say is, I want them now," Gertrude 
 Linton went on. " Yes, I should like about a thousand 
 pounds for our own English Refugee Committee, and 
 another thousand for the Friends, to help carry out 
 their work of reconstruction, and about two or three 
 for the American Relief Commission. Ah, I have it! 
 Why not begin by sending a good round sum direct 
 to that authoress who was writing the appeal? You 
 found the title for her: * Cargoes of Mercy' Why 
 not find some money, too? That's a good idea, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 " A very good idea, coming from some one who has 
 not to find the good round sum," Tamar remarked with 
 some amusement. 
 
 Miss Linton laughed. 
 
 " Think about it, T. Scott," she said. " And now, 
 good-bye. And as I observed before, don't imagine for 
 one moment that you have got rid of me. There's a 
 bond between us the bond of the little derelict we 
 found and lost. I miss Marie Louise. I believe you 
 miss her." 
 
 " Perhaps I do," Tamar said, turning away. " You
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 155 
 
 see, she clung to me. No one has ever clung to me 
 before." 
 
 For a moment she remained silent, and then she held 
 out her hand and said : 
 
 " I like you. Even if there had been no memory of 
 our search for Marie Louise to bind us together, I 
 should have felt a bond. So when you return, I shall 
 not be sorry. If you bring any one with you, I shall 
 not be angry. Do as you please. I will be ready for 
 you." 
 
 " Is that a promise? " Gertrude Linton asked. 
 
 " Yes, it's a promise," Tarnar said, nodding her head. 
 " And it's a tribute to your disinterestedness." 
 
 " You've got a bee in your bonnet about disinterest- 
 edness," Gertrude Linton said. 
 
 " I think I have," Tamar agreed. " I rather wish I 
 hadn't. It perplexes me." 
 
 " Well, let it perplex you to the tune of several good 
 round sums," was Gertrude Linton's parting shot. 
 
 Alone, Tamar repeated her words with an amused 
 smile on her face. 
 
 " A splendid idea," she said, " from some one who has 
 not to find those good round sums ! " 
 
 But the words and the thoughts they suggested, 
 haunted her, and for some time after Gertrude Linton 
 had gone, Tamar leaned over the counter, as was her 
 wont when concentrating on some difficult problem. 
 Finally she took from a drawer the book in which she 
 kept the details of her investments, and studied them 
 carefully. At intervals she shook her head, as if decid- 
 ing that no good round sums could be raised from these 
 sources, as selling prices were going steadily down. In 
 the midst of her investigations Bramfield arrived with a
 
 156 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 case containing the Dutch nefs and the other silver 
 pieces, which had been sent to his place of business in 
 Hatton Garden. There was a twinkle in his eye and a 
 look of mischief on his face, and he was evidently enjoy- 
 ing a huge joke. Bramfield always looked handsome 
 and attractive, but when his countenance was lit up by 
 even a suspicion of fun, it would have been impossible to 
 find any face more delightful to behold, more winning, 
 more reassuring reassuring because there was a cer- 
 tain statuesque quality in his features, which at times 
 lent him an aloofness totally at variance with his nat- 
 ural character. 
 
 " Tamar," he said, " here are your nefs and the other 
 things. I've carried out your wishes and had an inde- 
 pendent opinion about that stone in the crow's-nest. 
 Sorry to have to inform you that it isn't a valuable 
 emerald ! See now, here it is out of its setting, and very 
 different it looks. It's just a reconstructed emerald 
 rather a good one. But you've made a mistake this 
 time, you jolly well have! The old Dutch woman got 
 her bargain and T. Scott has been left. I really 
 can't help laughing. It strikes me as being exceedingly 
 funny that the great Tamar, dealer in antique jewellery 
 and precious stones, and an expert in emeralds, her 
 birth-stone, should have been left ! I think the schaper- 
 kaas and pekel-haring must have affected your brain ! " 
 
 For the life of him, he could not help teasing her about 
 her error in judgment, though he might have been 
 warned of the consequences by the ominous frown deep- 
 ening on Tamar's face. But he was so amused that he 
 thoroughly let himself go, and chuckled over the situa- 
 tion. He had placed all the silver on the counter, but. 
 he retained the stone in the palm of his hand.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 157 
 
 " Reconstructed, T. Scott," he repeated. " Recon- 
 structed. And to think that you of all people were 
 misled you who have never made a mistake about an 
 emerald." 
 
 Her face flushed to a crimson from rage and disap- 
 pointment as she snatched the stone from him, stared at 
 it in silence and then disappeared into the inner room 
 to use her magnifj'ing glass and apply her own special 
 tests. She returned, looking like a tigress at bay. 
 
 " It has been changed," she exclaimed fiercely. 
 " The stone I saw had every appearance of being a real 
 emerald, and a specially fine one. This is obviously re- 
 constructed. An} T fool could see that. It has been 
 changed. Perhaps you've changed it yourself to spite 
 me to rob me." 
 
 And then a curious thing happened. Bramfield, for 
 years a patient, devoted friend who had never failed 
 her, always put up with her sullenness and sulkiness, 
 never taken umbrage at her many varying moods, and 
 always made excuses for her, both to himself and other 
 people who were criticizing, condemning her, turned on 
 her. 
 
 " You mean-spirited, contemptible woman," he ex- 
 claimed, snatching up his hat. " Why does one ever 
 trouble about you? You're not worth a thought. You 
 deserve to be left friendless and that's what will hap- 
 pen to you mark my words." 
 
 Bramfield, the beautiful, the chivalrous, fled from the 
 shop, his face distorted with anger. 
 
 Tamar's own rage died down as quickly as it had 
 sprung to life. Her eyes closed and opened, and closed 
 and opened again, as if she were not sure of what had 
 happened so great was her surprise, so entire the
 
 158 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 shock to her nerves that he should have turned on her. 
 It had all passed so quickly that she scarcely knew why 
 or how it had happened. 
 
 These many years she had been accustomed and privi- 
 leged to do and say all the rudenesses she pleased, to 
 give way to her temper, her suspiciousness, her every 
 mood. And now she had been tripped up. Some one 
 had called her by an ugly name, told her what he 
 thought of her, how worthless, how negligible. And 
 that some one was Bramfield. It was incredible, un- 
 bearable that she should have alienated him and be- 
 cause of a petty, paltry, reconstructed emerald. It did 
 cross her mind that any quarrel might have been worth 
 while over a real emerald but certainly a recon- 
 structed one did not warrant the flinging aside of an old 
 friendship no, indeed it did not. But to do her jus- 
 tice, this thought of what was worth while and what 
 wasn't, only flashed across her mind and was gone. 
 What remained, was real concern for what she had done, 
 real contrition, and a deep sense of disappointment and 
 loneliness. 
 
 For she had been counting on his coming. She missed 
 his constant companionship. She had learnt to value 
 and appreciate him tenfold more in those three weeks of 
 intimate, everyday life. His protective rebuke of her 
 avaricious impulse had touched her to the core. His 
 tender understanding of her shame had chastened her. 
 His healing kindness had upheld her. 
 
 He had only had time to run in once or twice for a 
 few minutes since their return, and she wanted sorely to 
 talk with him over all their experiences together, to hear 
 about the Belgian lady whom he had taken safely to her 
 friends in Ealing, to tell him about Marie Louise, and
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 159 
 
 discuss with him all those hundred and one details which 
 those who have taken a journey together and had thrill- 
 ing adventures, hunger to browse on in each other's 
 company. And instead, she was alone Mary Louise 
 gone Miss Linton gone Bramfield gone. And the 
 loneliness brought about entirely by her own fault. 
 
 Why could she not have accepted her defeat over the 
 emerald in a sporting spirit, and why could she not 
 have been good-natured over his triumphant teasing? 
 She had liked him to tease her in Rotterdam. She had 
 liked it increasingly. And after all, though she had 
 allowed Weduwe Maas to overreach her because she be- 
 lieved that she herself was scoring in the long run, she 
 had only paid a very few more pounds than the market 
 value of the Dutch nef. A very few more. That was 
 annoying, of course, and still more annoying was the 
 fact of her mistake a wound to her professional pride 
 and expert knowledge. But what counted most and 
 hurt most, was her insult to Bramfield, and his retort to 
 her, scathing and ruthless, but deserved. 
 
 " I've deserved it, Bramfield," she said aloud, " and 
 your words will probably come true. I shall be left 
 friendless. That will be the end of me." 
 
 Then she tried to comfort herself. 
 
 " Perhaps he will return," she thought. " Surely 
 he'll return. It's unlike him to be unkind." 
 
 She longed to see him come into the shop, to hear his 
 voice, to feel his presence, to ask his pardon. In her 
 remorse, in her recognition of her ingratitude, Tamar 
 came far nearer to loving Bramfield than at any other 
 moment in the course of their long friendship. And 
 the irony of life contrived that at the very hour when 
 she advanced towards that enchanted ground where
 
 160 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 hearts meet and souls are knit, Bramfield who had lin- 
 gered there for years in hope and yearning, receded. 
 
 But Tamar was not destined to pass the whole day 
 without comfort, little though she deserved it. Out of 
 the leaden sky broke a bright flash of sunshine. Some 
 time in the afternoon, into the shop tumbled Tom 
 Thornton, bringing with him healing breezes of youth- 
 fulness and gaiety. 
 
 " Hullo," he sang out, as he nearly wrung her arm 
 off. " I'm glad you're back in your own dug-out. I'm 
 not half pleased to see you again ! Marion and I called 
 here the other day and found some snuffy old commis- 
 sionaire in charge who seemed to think we'd come to 
 burgle. Such a lot of .icws to tell you. More jewels 
 been found in another dummy book the ' Satires of 
 Juvenal ' this time. Great, isn't it? Clever of the Gov- 
 ernor to pitch on books which he knew we would never 
 have touched at the end of a pair of tongs ! Also, the 
 monk ghost has turned up at Marton Grange, looking in 
 at the window of the library as usual. Also, we're 
 established as a family in a flat in Russell Square. 
 Also, I haven't passed all my examinations. Have been 
 put back for map reading. I'm not down-hearted. 
 But you are, aren't you? What's up?" 
 
 " Nothing's up," she answered, forcing a smile. 
 " Except that I've mistaken a reconstructed emerald for 
 a real one." 
 
 Tom whistled. 
 
 " Have you been ' done,' then, and lost a whole pot of 
 money? " he asked. 
 
 Taraar's proper answer should have been : 
 
 " No, but I failed to * do ' some one else ! "
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 161 
 
 Instead, she answered: 
 
 " No, but I took a sporting chance on something 
 and lost." 
 
 " Never mind," he said. " Buck up. I'll ferret out 
 an emerald or two for you. I expect we shall soon find 
 some more knocking about in a soap-box, or in the 
 kitchen flue." 
 
 Tamar laughed. Tom's cheerfulness was infectious. 
 
 " Now, would you believe it? " he went on. " Wini- 
 fred rather wanted to persuade the Mater to let Marton 
 Grange. Rupert wouldn't hear of it. He loves that 
 old place. Did you ever hear anything so footling? 
 Why, we may have jewels turning up any old where. 
 Anyway, we're not going to let the house. And the 
 Mater will probably sneak back there as soon as we let 
 her. She feels rather strange in London, you know, 
 though she pretends to like Russell Square for our 
 sakes." 
 
 Then he went on to say that what he had really come 
 for, was to fetch her back to their flat. They wanted 
 her to tell them about their new find, and they all 
 wanted to see her and hear how she had been getting 
 on in Holland. So couldn't she just put on her things 
 and come along at once? He and two friends had got 
 leave till to-morrow, and so he wouldn't have to hurry 
 off to Oxford that night, and they were having a sort of 
 rally of a few intimates to celebrate his not getting 
 through all his examinations, and to give Rupert's girl, 
 Dorothy Hall, a send-off before she rejoined her Am- 
 bulance Corps in Belgium. Wouldn't Miss Scott come 
 and take part? 
 
 Tamar consented, for his arrival had braced her up, 
 and she dreaded the loneliness which she knew would
 
 162 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 follow on his departure. As she went upstairs to put 
 on her coat, leaving Tom in charge of the shop, she 
 could not help smiling to think how she was gradually 
 breaking into her habits of years, doing things which 
 she would never have dreamed of doing for instance, 
 leaving a comparative stranger alone in the shop, even 
 for five minutes, going to spend the evening out at some 
 one's house, and turning her back with positive relief 
 that was the amazing part of it with positive relief 
 on her own stronghold and her treasures, which had al- 
 ways meant so much more to her than mere human 
 beings. As a babe, she had been rocked amongst them, 
 as a child she had played with them, as a young woman 
 she had learnt to value them in more senses than one, 
 and as a middle-aged woman she had come to dote on 
 them to the exclusion of everything else until now. 
 She heard Tom whistling downstairs. She heard him 
 calling out: 
 
 " Cheerioh, I'll put the shutters up for you." 
 And she smiled. Very pleasant and comforting that 
 sounded. 
 
 Tamar found quite a number of young people in a 
 large, cosily-furnished room. They were laughing and 
 having no end of fun when she and Tom entered. 
 Marion, in a pretty drab uniform, with a light blue 
 collar and blue shoulder-straps marked with the letters 
 " W.H.C.," made a dash for her. Rupert and Dorothy 
 Hall, in her " F.A.N.Y." khaki, followed suit. Wini- 
 fred, in a dark blue uniform, with a blue armlet marked 
 "W.P.S." (Women Police Service), and looking every 
 inch an authoritative guardian of the peace, greeted her 
 with less effusion but decided cordiality. She was sa- 
 luted by a young New Zealand soldier and two of Tom's
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 163 
 
 comrades from the Military School of Aeronautics at 
 Oxford. A tall girl, also in khaki, with the shining 
 brass letters " W.V.R." on her shoulders and evidentl}' 
 an officer in rank, nodded to her in a friendly fashion. 
 Two other girls not in uniform, and a Red Cross nurse, 
 completed the number. She thought at first that she 
 was going to feel embarrassed amongst all these young 
 creatures; but they did not give her a chance to be 
 uncomfortable, and accepted her immediately as one of 
 themselves. 
 
 " Great evening, this," Dorothy said, " Tom not 
 passing all his examinations at first shot ! " 
 
 " Great evening, this," returned Tom, " Dorothy re- 
 turning to Belgium to drive the poor unfortunate 
 wounded Belgian soldiers. Glad I'm not a wounded 
 Belgian ! " 
 
 " Rough luck on me, having to part from her, isn't 
 it? " said Rupert. " But I've got to make the best of 
 it, as the women do when we go off. There doesn't seem 
 much chance of our having the one and only home yet." 
 
 " Perhaps it's as well, old thing," said Tom. " Just 
 as well to postpone the failure a little while. Give you 
 time to finish the Governor's book on archaeology, and 
 Dorothy to spill a few more Belgians out of her ambu- 
 lance." 
 
 " It isn't really true that he has passed all his exami- 
 nations except aerial observation, is it?" asked Doro- 
 thy of Tom's comrades. " The Royal Flying Corps 
 must be wanting officers badly and quickly ! " 
 
 There was a chorus of laughter in which Tom joined, 
 and in the middle Mrs. Thornton came in, and wanted 
 to take Tamar away with her to examine the stones in 
 private. But Tom protested.
 
 164 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 "No, Mater," he said, "don't go away. I'll fetch 
 the old dummy book, and then we can all have the fun 
 of hearing Miss Scott pronounce judgment. It will be 
 rather amusing. You won't mind having an audience, 
 Miss Scott?" 
 
 " No, I wouldn't mind, but I think your mother 
 would," Tamar said quietly. 
 
 " Don't press it, Tom dear," Marion whispered. 
 '* Mother wants to be alone. She'll be sure to feel 
 rather wretched, you know." 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " Of course," he said, " what a fool I am. I'd for- 
 gotten the cambric handkerchief." 
 
 So Mrs. Thornton bore Tamar off to the privacy of 
 her own room, and shut the door. 
 
 She turned to Tamar, and with a tender little smile 
 said: 
 
 " Neither Tom, bless him, nor indeed any one of my 
 young people quite realizes that all the circumstances 
 connected with the finding of these jewels are still very 
 painful to me. I do not mean to pretend that I have 
 not been exceedingly glad that my poor husband col- 
 lected them, and that we therefore were left in far better 
 circumstances. But that he kept them hidden from us, 
 remains and always will remain a grief to me." 
 
 Tamar nodded her head in silence. 
 
 " But for you," continued Mrs. Thornton, " I do not 
 know what I should have done. The wonderful way in 
 which you interpreted his mind and its workings has 
 comforted me more than I can ever say. I shall always 
 be grateful to you, dear Miss Scott, for understand- 
 ing and helping me to understand." 
 
 " There is nothing to be grateful for," Tamar said
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 165 
 
 kindly. " It has just been a coincidence that the per- 
 son who came to value the stones, happened to have the 
 same sort of well, shall I say almost mad passion for 
 them that your husband had. If you try to remember 
 that it was an obsession, a passion, you will not suffer so 
 much, because you will realize afresh that it was some- 
 thing altogether outside himself. You don't suffer as 
 much as you did at first, I hope? " 
 
 " No," she said, but even as she spoke there seemed to 
 be a possibility that the cambric handkerchief might 
 have to be produced. 
 
 But the danger passed, and she was able to continue: 
 
 " And then, of course, I have the great joy of seeing 
 the young people happy and of being able to give them 
 the chances they wanted and the freedom. I want 
 them to be free, and feel free. Whatever they are do- 
 ing, this flat will at least be a rallying-place for them 
 all, But I tell you, as a secret, that I do not really 
 care to be here. I shall be glad soon to creep back to 
 Marton Grange to my old life and my memories. 
 No, I do not suffer so much, but I owe this to you. 
 And now again, as before, your presence and your ex- 
 planation reassure me. Do you remember what I said 
 before : ' Something lost recovered '? Well, again I 
 say it: ' Something lost recovered.' ' 
 
 " Strange that I should be able to comfort any one," 
 Tamar said, half to herself. 
 
 " Oh, no, surely not strange," Mrs. Thornton said, 
 " you, with your kind nature." 
 
 Tamar winced. 
 
 " Kind nature ? " she repeated, almost roughly. 
 " Why, I'm a brute, if you only knew grasping, suspi- 
 cious, hard as nails, dis . . ."
 
 166 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Hush, hush," interrupted Mrs. Thornton. " I 
 won't hear such things of you. Whatever you are, 
 you've not been that to us." 
 
 "But I have," Tamar insisted, half defiantly. "I 
 was grasping about the pearls. Didn't Mr. Rupert tell 
 you?" 
 
 Mrs. Thornton shook her head. 
 
 " He told me you wanted them," she said, " and that 
 we were to keep them back indefinitely until you cared to 
 buy them. That doesn't sound very grasping, does it ? " 
 
 Tamar was silent. In her silence she thanked Rupert 
 for his second act of chivalry. 
 
 " The children think no end of you," Mrs. Thornton 
 went on. " All of them. I only hope they will not be 
 a worry to you ; but they do seem to think they have a 
 right to come to Dean Street ! You must shut the door 
 on them if they trouble you." 
 
 " They have a right," Tamar said. " And the door 
 shall never be shut on them." 
 
 " You see," Mrs. Thornton said, " when you came to 
 us that memorable day, you established a relationship 
 with us all because you brought good news, and also be- 
 cause you were able to explain and to heal. You 
 wouldn't think Tom needed healing. Yet in his way he 
 had the same feeling of having been shut out and 
 Marion had it and Winifred and Rupert." 
 
 She was silent a moment, as if lost in thought. It 
 was still evident that no precious stones would ever com- 
 pensate her for the discovery of that barrier which her 
 husband had set up against his wife and children and 
 the whole world. Then, as if with reluctance, she 
 opened a drawer of the bureau and took out a box in 
 the form of a dummy book, which had the words,
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 167 
 
 *' Satires of Juvenal," on its back. She placed it with- 
 out a word in Tamar's hands. Tamar glanced at the 
 book-box with curious interest. It passed through her 
 mind that Mr. Thornton had indeed been a strange man, 
 but not stranger than some of the extraordinary char- 
 acters with whom in the course of her business she had 
 come in contact. 
 
 She raised the lid and set about examining the stones. 
 Mrs. Thornton stared fixedly into the fire. Not once 
 did she ask a question, nor show any interest. 
 
 There were a few tourmalines and topazes, and two 
 reconstructed emeralds which gave Tamar a shudder; 
 but most of the stones were semi-precious, such as azur- 
 ite, lapis-lazuli, jargoon, iolite, zircon, and others, truly 
 beautiful, and interesting scientifically, but not of great 
 value from a gem dealer's point of view, so Tamar told 
 her. Mrs. Thornton did not seem in the least disap- 
 pointed by the verdict, but merely replaced the box in 
 the drawer, took up her knitting, and said : 
 
 " And now let us join the young people again." 
 
 But Tamar detained her. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, " I am glad that little col- 
 lection has been found, Mrs. Thornton. And do you 
 know why ? " 
 
 Mrs. Thornton shook her head. 
 
 " Do you not see," Tamar said slowly, " that your 
 husband's habit of hiding away his stones was not based 
 on any desire to keep things of value from your knowl- 
 edge, but that his obsession demanded an entire secrecy? 
 And so these comparatively valueless stones were hid- 
 den away with precisely the same care and craft as the 
 rubies and sapphires and emeralds which have realized 
 a fortune for you. I believe it was an obsession which
 
 168 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 was entirely without any plan of imkindness. That is 
 how it seems to me." 
 
 " I will remember," Mrs. Thornton said, as she put 
 her hand on Tamar's arm. There was something pa- 
 thetic in her entire confidence in Tamar's words and 
 Tamar's estimate of her husband's character. It was 
 as if she had found in the darkness of her distress an 
 unexpected straw at which she had clutched and to 
 which she would always want to cling for safety and 
 guidance. 
 
 None of the family seemed disappointed when they 
 heard the news that the " Satires of Juvenal " had 
 yielded up no plunder worthy of the name. Winifred 
 who had found the box, said that she was rather re- 
 lieved to learn that the contents were not valuable. 
 She thought they had quite enough. Marion who, like 
 her mother, was still sensitive about Mr. Thornton's 
 strange secrecy, made no remark. Tom said: 
 
 " The more the merrier. But if not more, then not 
 less merry." 
 
 Rupert, who having studied Tamar's book more care- 
 fully, was beginning to think himself quite an expert 
 and give himself professional airs, said : 
 
 " It is not a surprise to me. I knew at once that the 
 stones in that box were not valuable." 
 
 Tamar was greatly amused and had a secret laugh 
 over the wise, expert expression on his face. 
 
 Tom inquired of her on the quiet how his mother had 
 borne the interview. 
 
 "I hope no sign of the cambric handkerchief?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " A faint sign," reported Tamar, " which she sup-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 169 
 
 pressed very bravely, Mr. Tom. But I think she suf- 
 fers. You must look after her." 
 
 She watched him after that drop down on the sofa by 
 his mother's side and work hard to bring a smile into 
 her face. He teased her about the size of the socks she 
 was knitting for the mine-sweepers and men of the Navy, 
 and asked whether they were intended for socks or 
 sleeping-bags, or whether it was some new pattern she 
 had invented to serve both purposes. Hadn't she bet- 
 ter take out a patent for it and submit it to the Govern- 
 ment to be ignommiously rejected, and immediately 
 accepted by the French or any of our Allies nay, 
 perhaps annexed by the Germans themselves through 
 some of the uninterned Germans enjoying themselves 
 comfortably on our hospitable shores. So he rattled 
 on, and did not relax his efforts until the cloud had 
 cleared from her face. 
 
 Rupert asked Tamar to tell them about her adven- 
 tures in Holland. She gave a brief, a very brief ac- 
 count of the refugees, the American Relief Ships, the 
 escaped French prisoners on board and the spies ; and 
 she told them a few of the stories she had heard of the 
 behaviour of the Germans in Belgium. 
 
 " My God," one of the flying cadets said with a shud- 
 der, " suppose it was our country." 
 
 But on the whole, they seemed more interested in the 
 fact that she had been down in a submarine. No one 
 present had been in a submarine, and her experience in 
 that direction elicited an amount of interest and respect 
 which the most thrilling story about refugees would 
 have failed to arouse in their minds ! 'It struck Tamar 
 how little the events of the war were touching the people 
 in England.
 
 170 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 They soon plunged into their own immediate con- 
 cerns, and she was glad enough to listen to their talk 
 and discussions, and to ask them a few questions about 
 what they were all doing. They interested her enor- 
 mously, and presented to her a new world of which she 
 had hitherto been entirely ignorant. In spite of all 
 their chaff of each other, their fun and joyous irrespon- 
 sibility, it was quite clear that they all knew what they 
 intended to do, and had very definite ideas about their 
 capabilities, their usefulness, and the parts they would 
 be called upon to play, if not now, then sooner or later. 
 A regular " churn up " was going on, so they put it, 
 and there were going to be all sorts of changes. 
 
 Winifred was very emphatic on this point. She was 
 in good spirits about the outlook for the Women Police 
 Service, for there was a rumour in her set that women 
 police were going to be posted in some of the munition 
 factories, where already large numbers of girls were 
 working in the manufacture of some of the most dan- 
 gerous explosives demanded by the war. She was keen 
 about the need for trained and educated police-women, 
 and quite certain from her own experiences in patrolling 
 the streets and public parks and neighbourhoods of 
 camps, that the work of their corps would prove to be 
 of real assistance in this time of upheaval. So far. she 
 said, they had had discouragement from the Govern- 
 ment, but great encouragement from private societies 
 and municipal authorities and watch committees. She 
 explained to Tamar that they had to have a very high 
 standard of training, not only in the technique of public 
 work, but in discretion and wisdom of action. Train- 
 ing alone saved them from tactless mistakes. The
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 171 
 
 training included drill, attendance at police courts, first 
 aid, lectures in civil and criminal law especially those 
 Acts relating to women and children, patrolling and 
 domiciliary visiting. Two or three of the boroughs in 
 London and several in the provinces were already em- 
 ploying women constables, their salaries being paid for 
 by public subscription. She herself had been in Bir- 
 mingham, but was now stationed in London. She was 
 now a sub-inspector and very proud of her promotion, 
 and exceedingly enthusiastic about her commandant. 
 Tamar thought it would be impossible to find any one 
 more suited to her job than this clear-faced, blue-eyed, 
 calm young woman, with a quiet manner giving a dis- 
 tinct impression of resourceful reliability an asset in 
 itself and a real passion for social reform. She 
 seemed as much born for this vocation as the flying 
 boys for theirs, with the right physique and the right 
 outlook. 
 
 The flying boys talked chiefly about flying, and the 
 exploits of some of the famous airmen at the Front. 
 Tamar, hearing what these young fellows were expected 
 to learn and digest in their six or seven weeks' course at 
 their School of Instruction, looked upon them with 
 added wonder. How they could swallow engines, rig- 
 ging, theory of flight, cross-country flying, wireless, 
 map-reading, meteorology, construction of bombs and 
 machine guns, aerial photography and countless other 
 subjects and yet be alive very much alive, filled 
 her with amazement. 
 
 " Oh, it's nothing," said Tom. " Extraordinarily 
 easy specially when you don't pass ! " 
 
 The New Zealander was thrilled at being in London,
 
 172 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 and could only speak of all the sights he had been see- 
 ing Westminster Abbey, Saint Paul's Cathedral, 
 Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park, the Strand, Piccadilly, 
 and the Mansion House, Holborn Bars, the Temple, and 
 all the old buildings. He said he was dead-set on old 
 buildings. 
 
 " I say, old chap, you really ought to come and stay 
 with us in our old place in Yorkshire," Tom said. 
 " About three or four centuries old, you know, and with 
 a property ghost a monk who comes and looks in at 
 the window and makes faces at you. And a bricked-up 
 skeleton for all we know. No Colonial ought to miss it. 
 The finest sensation of the Motherland. You ought to 
 get an invitation out of the Mater." 
 
 " Yes, you ought," Mrs. Thornton said, looking up 
 and smiling from her knitting. 
 
 " You bet I'll come, then, the first chance I get," 
 the New Zealander said, flushing with pleasure. He 
 was but one of the thousands of Colonial boys who, 
 a little lonely and homesick in the Old Country, have 
 brightened up at the prospect of a bit of home life 
 offered them. 
 
 Marion told Tamar a few details about the St. Ursula 
 Military Hospital where she was a nursing orderly. 
 She was very proud of the hospital. The C. O., she 
 said, the Surgeon-in-Chief, the surgeons and doctors, 
 the bacteriologist, the radiographer, the oculist, and the 
 whole medical staff were women. With the exception of 
 the Sergeant-Major and two or three R. A. M. C. men 
 who were going shortly to the Front, women only were 
 doing the work of the hospital. Miss Scott ought to 
 come and see it some day. She would be interested. 
 Wouldn't she come? It was so near her shop, that it
 
 WHERE r YOUR HEART IS 173 
 
 wouldn't be much trouble to run in if Marion got a per- 
 mit for her. Tamar, who had a tender spot in her 
 heart for Marion, her first friend amongst the Thornton 
 children, did not tell her that she had not the least 
 desire to visit that, or, indeed, any hospital. Illness 
 was not in her line. Like many others, she shrank from 
 it and was rather frightened of sick people. The last 
 thing she wanted to do was to visit wounded soldiers. 
 She evaded giving a promise, and murmured something 
 about " no time in the afternoon." But she was not at 
 all prejudiced against women doctors. If anything, she 
 was in favour of them ; for one of them, a distinguished 
 member of her profession, had come to Dean Street one 
 day and bought a Limoges enamel, over which she had 
 been very easily and successfully cheated. 
 
 " You come to me instead," she said to Marion. " As 
 you are so near, you can run in for tea." 
 
 It was whilst Marion was telling her about the hos- 
 pital that Major Currie, the dug-out uncle of the fam- 
 ily, arrived on the scene. The flying boys were making 
 the statement that the war would finally be decided in 
 the air. Major Currie entirely disagreed, and treated 
 their remarks with patronizing amusement. He vouch- 
 safed a few arguments which were listened to with a 
 bored resignation which struck Tamar as being exceed- 
 ingly funny. Tom's face alone was a study ; he leaned 
 back, digging the base of his skull into the back of his 
 chair, his eyes raised to the ceiling, and his mouth open- 
 ing and shutting slightly. He was really very naughty, 
 and kept on murmuring: 
 
 " Old blighter old blighter." 
 
 " Try and stick it," Rupert said to Tom in an under- 
 tone. " He's going to supper with another old dug-out
 
 174. WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 at the ' Carlton.' I heard him say so. He'll soon be 
 off." 
 
 " All right," replied Tom in the same undertone. 
 " But can't you get Winifred to arrest him and take 
 him off at once? That's what I want to know." 
 
 Finally the Major rose to go, having delivered himself 
 of much patronage and old-time military unwisdom. 
 He glanced pleasantly at the un-uniformed girls, one of 
 whom was doing a twelve-hours' shift at a canteen for 
 the troops at Victoria Station. (Later, she worked at 
 a munition factory, in one of the danger departments.) 
 The other, a delightful singer, was a member of a con- 
 cert party organized for the entertainment of the troops 
 of the New Army now training in England. She toured 
 all over the country, grateful to offer her best gift to 
 the men who were going to fight for her. (Later, much 
 of the organizing of the entertainments for our soldiers 
 in France passed into her able hands.) On her, too, the 
 Major deigned to bestow his benediction, and accepted 
 the Red Cross nurse as a type familiar enough not to be 
 resented. But the uniformed maidens he evidently dis- 
 approved of entirely, and he singled out the tall khaki 
 girl, glared at her and said, with a half contemptuous 
 little smile on his ruddy face : 
 
 " And, pray, what are you? " 
 
 " I'm a captain in the Women's Volunteer Reserve," 
 she answered. " At present not wanted by the War 
 Office, but preparing, like all of us women, for the future 
 needs of the country." 
 
 " My dear young lady, it's very kind of you, I'm 
 sure," he said, " and very amusing for you, I'm sure 
 but very unnecessary entirely unnecessary and some- 
 what absurd."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 175 
 
 But Captain Ella Lulworth, who had been a suffra- 
 gette in those far-off days before the war, feared neither 
 man nor Major. She glared at him a moment, and then 
 said with apparent irrelevance: 
 
 " Have you ever been in Germany, sir? " 
 
 " No, I cannot say I have," he answered stiffly. 
 
 " I thought not," she returned benevolently. " Well, 
 I have, for five years in a German school. And I 
 know how they've been preparing for this war, and edu- 
 cating all their young people for it. We're in for a 
 long affair, sir, and all of us will be wanted men and 
 women, too. Wait and see, sir. For all you know, 
 when you're made a colonel, I may have the honour of 
 being your adjutant." 
 
 The Major beat a speedy retreat with dignity, but in 
 haste, conscious that Captain Ella Lulworth was too 
 much for him. 
 
 " Routed, but not convinced," she said, laughing. 
 " Never mind. Time will show." 
 
 Time did show. The Women's Volunteer Reserve, 
 laughed at in the beginning, was but the very gallant 
 precursor of our very gallant W. A. A. Cs. 
 
 After Major Currie had gone, they held an animated 
 discussion on the subject. Tamar was greatly inter- 
 ested to see that although there was a little good- 
 natured chaff about this question of women's services, 
 which was quite new to her, there was no real opposition 
 on the part of the young men. It was taken for 
 granted by them all that this was a " churn up," and 
 everybody was " in it." Tamar, listening to them all, 
 felt churned up herself, arid even more bewildered than 
 she had been in Holland. When they fell into a talk 
 abou , politicians and crowned heads, the rights of the
 
 176 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 people and war, her brain fairly reeled. She thought 
 with sudden longing of the precious stones in her safe, 
 so peaceful and unexacting in their luscious beauty. 
 Some of the company maintained that war was neces- 
 sary and uplifting and purifying ; but Rupert vowed it 
 was nothing of the sort. 
 
 " All bosh," he said. " It appeals to our most bar- 
 barous instincts. When we're out of it, the only thing 
 to do is to forget that we've been murderous brutes. 
 That we can forget at all shows that whilst we're at it, 
 it is pure madness organized madness, and we recog- 
 nize it as such when we're sane." 
 
 The New Zealander took the view that it was alto- 
 gether glorious. 
 
 " Nothing glorious in it," Rupert insisted. " Noth- 
 ing" 
 
 " But deeds of courage are glorious, Rupe," Marion 
 said. And although she would not have dared to refer 
 to it, she thought of his own fine record and the Mili- 
 tary Medal lying in his drawer. 
 
 " Deeds of courage in peace are every bit as fine as 
 in war," he answered. " And even finer. For in peace 
 there is no incentive, no excitement to egg one on." 
 
 Winifred asked Tamar what she thought about war. 
 
 Tamar looked dazed by the question, but gathered 
 her wits together. 
 
 " I have no views," she said, " and I've never thought 
 about war at all. When this war started, it meant 
 nothing to me. But since I've seen something of the 
 misery of a stricken nation, I have begun to wonder 
 at the madness. of statesmen and the stupidity of peo- 
 ples." 
 
 " Then you'd have them rise and rebel and refuse to
 
 , WHERE 'YOUR HEART IS 177 
 
 fight? " Winifred asked. " That would be all very well 
 if you could get all the people of all the nations to act in 
 concert. But they never would. That's the trouble." 
 
 " It's the only solution," Rupert said. " The peo- 
 ples of the world solid against the politicians and 
 crowned heads of the world until there are no crowned 
 heads and no politicians left and no wars." 
 
 " That won't be in our time," Winifred said. 
 
 " Nor in anybody's time," said one of the flying boys. 
 
 " No use taking any notice of Rupert," remarked 
 Tom. " We all know he has been a shirker ! Come on, 
 Dorothy, as this party is in honour of you and me, let's 
 lead the way in to supper. There's a war on, no doubt 
 about that. And supper ought to be on. No doubt 
 about that, either. Cheerioh ! " 
 
 They ended by seeing Tamar home. She heard their 
 young voices laughing as they passed up the street. 
 She listened until the sound had died away in the dis- 
 tance, and then she sat down in the inner room. 
 
 Memories of the evening and new impressions faded 
 from her mind. She lived over again that pitiable inter- 
 view with Bramfield, realized afresh her insult to him and 
 his anger with her, and was torn with contrition for the 
 wound she had inflicted on him and the rage roused in 
 him. And apart from her own remorse, an uneasy, al- 
 most frightened presentiment began to take hold of her 
 that she had alienated him irretrievably, driven him by 
 her own deliberate choice from her door, from her life. 
 
 Then it was that Tamar knew that life was unthink- 
 able without him, and that the impending desolation 
 would be more than she could bear. For he had always 
 been at hand. Never could she say she was alone in
 
 178 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 this world as long as Bramfield lived and loved her. 
 And now, if he forsook her, she would be alone, left, 
 stranded. 
 
 In her despair she stretched out her arms to him. 
 
 " Bramfield, Bramfield, forgive me," she cried.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 BUT Bramfield did not feel in the least inclined to 
 forgive. He kept rigidly away from Dean Street, 
 and did not allow himself to fall back on the excuse 
 which had done duty on many other occasions, that it 
 was only T. Scott, only one of her ways, and no one 
 need be offended or take umbrage or even take any no- 
 tice. On the contrary, he was sorry he had not taken 
 more notice and told her a few more unpleasant truths 
 and possibilities whilst he was about it. He reflected 
 that any one who could be so detestable was not worth 
 bothering about, and that he must make up his mind to 
 give her a wide berth and transfer to another direction 
 some of the thought and concern he had been in the 
 habit of bestowing on her and her affairs. For in busi- 
 ness matters, too, Bramfield had always kept her in 
 remembrance. He had put many good chances in her 
 way, and frequently stepped aside so that she might 
 have an innings instead of himself. He knew that she 
 knew this, couldn't fail to know it, and had freely ac- 
 knowledged her indebtedness to him, and therefore he 
 did not seriously believe that she really thought he had 
 been cheating her and substituting a reconstructed 
 emerald for a genuine one. Her outbreak had been 
 caused by her horrid, suspicious temper, and by her 
 annoyance with herself for having been proved in the 
 wrong. But she had no right to work off her spleen in 
 that detestable fashion, and she needed a lesson and 
 she would get it. 
 
 179
 
 180 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " If she writes to say she is sorry, I shall be silent," he 
 resolved. 
 
 Yet Bramfield could not banish her from his mind. 
 He had given her years of devotion and forbearance, 
 and apart from deeper feelings, habits, especially habits 
 of kindness, often more sustaining to the doer of kind 
 acts than to their recipient, are not easily broken. 
 Tamar had become necessary to him ; and although his 
 life was full of interests and activities, she had her own 
 citadel in his heart unassailable even by her worst qual- 
 ities. 
 
 So in the days that followed their angry parting, 
 though she remained in disgrace, she was by no means 
 forgotten or successfully relegated to the past. Mem- 
 ories of her stole over him at all times, in all places. 
 He heard that soft, low laugh of hers when she was 
 pleased at something. Her bright, piercing eyes, her 
 shapely hands, her interesting face, vaguely beautiful 
 when she was good, and strangely arresting when she 
 was fierce, pitiless when she was covetous, transient 
 with idealism when she was kind, haunted Bramfield 
 not a little. And she could be kind when she chose 
 to let herself go and not only with money, but with 
 personal service. But she had always carefully con- 
 cealed every trace of kindness, as if she were ashamed 
 of having given way to human weakness. Yet he had 
 heard of deeds, now and then, which had rejoiced his 
 heart. 
 
 And she was changing, developing in a way he would 
 not have thought possible a few months ago. He had 
 been amazed at some of the things she did in Holland, 
 at her tenderness to the little Belgian child, at her in- 
 terest in the work which was being carried on by the
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 strangers he presented her to, at her companionableness, 
 the capabilities of which he had never realized. Queer, 
 strange, repelling, attracting personality that she was 
 deserving to be left alone and abandoned if one re- 
 garded her from one point only and yet presenting a 
 claim on one's heart-hunger, one's love, one's habits 
 of patience and protectiveness. 
 
 And he missed her. Angry though he was, he would 
 have given a great deal to see her, and talk over all 
 the Rotterdam happenings. But he yielded not an inch 
 to his longings, kept to his resolve bravely, and plunged 
 into his many concerns with an increased activity. 
 
 Probably he would not have been able to sustain tmV 
 attitude of steadfast rebellion if he had not been so busy. 
 But apart from his business as diamond merchant, 
 Bramfield had created for himself many demands on his 
 time and strength. His only child Bruce, who had 
 been already a year in the Army on the declaration of 
 war, was a source of great pride to him and envy, 
 for he was passionately patriotic and would dearly have 
 valued the privilege of fighting for his country. But 
 as he was nearly fifty-seven, that was out of the ques- 
 tion. The next best thing was having a son who was 
 one of the immortal First Hundred Thousand. But 
 his age disability did not prevent him from trying to 
 join up. He was, of course, rejected, and in company 
 with thousands of other eager, patriotic, middle-aged 
 men, in splendid condition and of a fine enthusiasm, 
 made clearly to understand that his country had no 
 need for them in any capacity whatsoever. 
 
 But he was not one of those who in consequence of 
 this blighting response to all offers of service, sank into 
 apathy and discouragement. He had a friend in the
 
 188 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Traffic Department of one of the great railway systems, 
 who told him that people were needed at the stations 
 to receive and look after the Belgian refugees who were 
 beginning to arrive in great numbers. Bramfield went 
 down to the stations night after night, and found his 
 friend Gertrude Linton engaged in the same work. It 
 was soon seen by the officials of the London Committee 
 formed to deal with the refugee problem in England, 
 that here were two people whose organizing abilities 
 were valuable and must be secured. When the Local 
 Government Board stepped in, their services were still 
 further called into requisition in connection with the ac- 
 tual shipping of the Belgians from Holland ; and Bram- 
 field, in addition, was drawn into the American Relief 
 Commission, and became one of the most active mem- 
 bers at the London headquarters. So that his personal 
 concerns had little chance of continuous attention, and 
 his personal emotions not much scope for indulgence. 
 
 Tamar meantime remained in a condition of peni- 
 tence combined with foreboding uneasiness, which in- 
 creased as the days went on and there was no sign of 
 or from Bramfield. She felt extraordinarily lonely, 
 for her journey to Holland, with all the possibilities 
 of fellowship and good-comradeship which had been 
 revealed to her, had shown her what life could bestow, 
 if not passed entirely in the company of precious stones 
 and in secret worship at the shrine of hidden treasures 
 in an inner room. She could not analyse what had hap- 
 pened to her, but she was conscious that the delight 
 and rapture of former days had undergone a modifica- 
 tion which was entirely surprising to her. This does 
 not mean that she was not thrilled when she touched
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 183 
 
 her precious stones, when her eyes feasted on their col- 
 our, their lustre and all their magic characteristics 
 which she knew so well. Not to have been thrilled, 
 would have meant that Tamar had ceased to live. 
 
 But other feelings constantly thrust themselves in; 
 and even whilst she gazed at her favourite asteria or 
 her most attractive opal, thoughts of Marie Louise, 
 Gertrude Linton, the American Relief Commission peo- 
 ple, and Bramfield always Bramfield stole over 
 her. When she held in the palm of her hand her most 
 valued sapphire, of choicest cornflower blue, an ( d per- 
 fect in tone and transparency, a memory of the ckrgoes 
 of mercy intruded itself into that fairyland of delight 
 hitherto securely screened off from disturbing outside 
 influences. And forthwith she wrote a cheque for two 
 hundred pounds, and sent it to the authoress who was 
 writing an appeal for the funds of the American Relief 
 Commission. As she gummed up the envelope, she said 
 aloud : 
 
 " Little enough to send and all those thousands 
 and thousands of starving people to feed. Two hun- 
 dred pounds and I have thousands more and vhat 
 use are they to me ? " 
 
 It was the first time in her life that she had ever 
 asked herself such a question. Her passionate desire 
 to accumulate money and treasure was inborn in her, 
 a heritage from her mother, as natural to her as sing- 
 ing to the birds, as swiftness of feet to the swift grey- 
 hound. And to do her justice, she did not send that 
 gift of two hundred pounds as an act of penitence, to 
 make things right with herself, as she had often done 
 before. She sent it because she wanted to send it, be- 
 cause she had been tremendously stirred at the time
 
 184 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 by the scenes she had witnessed, and because the beauty 
 of the sapphire sank into insignificance before the vision 
 which rose up of a gallant ship laden with tons of 
 precious grain, cargoes of mercy for the starving and 
 stricken. Nor did one single thought of Bramfield 
 prompt her in this matter. It was her own free im- 
 pulse, and it heralded a new era in her history. 
 
 After a time, as Bramfield did not come, Tamar, still 
 penitent and wishing to obtain his forgiveness, went to 
 his offices in Hatton Garden and found him out. His 
 manager thought he might probably be at a lapidary's 
 known to them both, and Tamar pursued him there and 
 learnt that he had already gone. Mr. Grierson, the 
 lapidary, an intimate friend of Bramfield's, told her 
 that he was wearing himself out with public service and 
 with anxiety about his boy. 
 
 " He looked very troubled today," Grierson added. 
 M Very tired and worn, with a sort of droop about him 
 I've never seen before. I wanted him to stop quietly 
 here and have a rest and a smoke in my inner room, but 
 he said he had to go off. Can't you persuade him to 
 do less, Miss Scott? " 
 
 Tamar shook her head. 
 
 " No, I don't think I can," she said dreamily. " He 
 has to be almost feverishly active. You should have 
 seen him in Holland. I thought he was very won- 
 derful." 
 
 "Did you?" Grierson asked, scanning her with 
 stealthy interest. He knew Bramfield's secret. 
 
 " Yes," Tamar repeated. " Very wonderful." 
 
 Her face lit up with one of her rare, beautiful smiles. 
 She had been fingering a most glorious bit of opal mat-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 185 
 
 rix which was lying on the counter. It was of immense 
 size, and she asked about it and learnt that it was from 
 Queensland. It served to stop any further conversa- 
 tion about Bramfield, which was more than she could 
 bear, so great was her longing to see him. She hur- 
 ried home and wrote this letter : 
 
 " BRAMFIELD, 
 
 " I ask you to forgive me. I am sorry I insulted 
 you. "T. SCOTT." 
 
 She received no answer, and she wrote again : 
 
 " I am sure you must know that it was my temper 
 and disappointment that drove me to insult you, and 
 not my conviction. " T. SCOTT." 
 
 No answer, and she wrote once more: 
 
 " I admit that I deserve all you said to me. 
 
 " TAMAB." 
 
 Still no reply came, but Tamar would have been 
 comforted if she had known that he smiled lovingly over 
 these brief missives, documentary evidence of her peni- 
 tence and humbled pride, and kept them in his pocket- 
 book, to be re-read many times during the day. With 
 the arrival of each one his anger abated several degrees, 
 but he was determined to give her a lesson and made 
 no haste to reply. But at last he wrote: 
 
 " TAMAR, 
 
 " I have received your letters, but have been so 
 rushed that I've not had a chance to answer them. 
 With regard to your amazing insult, I forgive you, if 
 it is of any value to you to have this assurance. 
 
 " BRAMFIELD."
 
 186 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 When several more days had elapsed and Tamar had 
 received no visit from him, she artfully set about secur- 
 ing a professional interview with him. She had never 
 claimed that she understood diamonds as well as he did, 
 and as some rather fine stones had been brought to her 
 by a lady who wished to sell them and buy War Loan, 
 she wrote and asked him to spare a few minutes and 
 call in for the purpose of helping her to value them. 
 
 Then Bramfield behaved in a way entirely different 
 from his usual habit. He sent his manager a splen- 
 did expert and Tamar knew that. But never once 
 had he only served her indirectly. He had invariably 
 given direct, personal, speedy service. That he should 
 have put her off with his manager, showed her, only 
 too clearly that by her own folly she had alienated 
 and lost him. 
 
 After this rebuff she left him alone. She considered 
 she had sacrificed more than enough of her pride, and 
 she could not continue being actively penitent. That 
 was not possible to her. Passively penitent, yes 
 but not more. But she missed him sorely, was sorry 
 about his anxiety for Bruce, and realized as never be- 
 fore what he was, the scope of his outlook, the range 
 of her unselfishness and kindness. Her own words 
 echoed back to her : " You should have seen him in 
 Holland. I thought him very wonderful." 
 
 She could not bear the sight of any of the Dutch nefs, 
 nor of that reconstructed emerald. They reminded 
 her of her mistaken judgment and her hateful outburst 
 of temper. She felt almost inclined to sell them at 
 once cheaply and thus get rid of them. But saner 
 business instincts prevailed, and she hid them away out 
 of sight, but ready for future favourable opportunity.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 187 
 
 But although Tamar was lonely in spirit, her days 
 did not lack events, nor her business clients. She was, 
 in fact, unusually busy, and amongst other things sold 
 some of her best George the Second silver bits, notably 
 a pair of caskets beautifully chased with foliage, and a 
 very fine pilgrim bottle, and a Queen Anne three-han- 
 dled cup. She parted company also with some of her 
 Spode china, two Battersea enamels and several costly 
 jewels. People apparently had plenty of money to 
 spend on luxuries in spite of the war; but there were, 
 likewise, a great many others who were parting with 
 their possessions to raise money either for themselves or 
 for some purpose in connection with the war. Gold 
 rings and brooches, thick snake bracelets and many 
 hideous and enormous lockets had been unearthed from 
 the recesses of Mid-Victorian cupboards with glass 
 doors. Some of the objects brought to light were ex- 
 tremely interesting, others ugly but valuable, and not a 
 few comparatively worthless. She grunted approval 
 over some, sniffed at others and laughed goodnatu redly 
 at quite a number. But on the whole, considering she 
 was Tamar, she behaved very decently about prices when 
 she learnt that these treasures were being sold to buy 
 War Loan ; and in one instance she did an act of gen- 
 erosity in kindest fashion. 
 
 This was in the case of an elderly woman, about the 
 same age as Mrs. Thornton, obviously poor, timid and 
 retiring, and quite the last person in the world to enter 
 a shop and offer anything for sale. T. Scott knew 
 types well. She knew that this gentle lady came from 
 a backwater of life, and that only some great need had 
 impelled her to bring her wares to the market. T. 
 Scott looked at the huge and haunting gold brooch,
 
 188 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 designed to contain a miniature, surrounded by a twisted 
 pattern a triumph of clumsy device and workman-, 
 ship. The gold was not even good. She named a price, 
 a very fair one. But the lady seemed entirely stunned. 
 She turned pale, and her hand trembled. Her voice 
 almost failed her when she attempted to speak. 
 
 " Oh," she said, " what a disappointment. I was 
 hoping to send so many parcels of food to my boy who is 
 a prisoner with the Germans." 
 
 She made no complaint, urged no concession, but ac- 
 cepted T. Scott's verdict as final, and put the twenty- 
 five shillings in her purse. The money would at least 
 send three parcels to Diilmen in Westphalia. Three 
 parcels were better than nothing. 
 
 The dumbness of her despair touched a chord in 
 Tamar's heart. She had heard in Holland something 
 about the sad condition of the British prisoners in Ger- 
 many. 
 
 " Have you nothing else to sell? " she asked. 
 
 " Nothing nothing of any value," the lady said, 
 shaking her head. " I did put a little ring in my pocket 
 but I am sure you would think it of no value and 
 perhaps I'll keep it." 
 
 " May I see it? " T. Scott asked in her best business 
 tone of voice. 
 
 The lady hesitated, as if she could not bear another 
 rebuff, and then handed it to Tamar. It was a poor 
 little trinket, with a garnet of the commonest variety, 
 but Tamar examined it carefully, held it up to the light, 
 turned it over, considered it for some time and ap- 
 peared to give it all the attention she might have been 
 likely to bestow on a valuable stone. Finally she said :
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 189 
 
 " Well, now, it is just as well you showed it to me, 
 for it's worth something." 
 
 She saw the lady's face light up with hope. 
 
 " I can give you twenty-five pounds for this ring," 
 she said casually. 
 
 " You don't really mean it ? " exclaimed the lady, her 
 face now transformed with joy. 
 
 Tamar nodded. 
 
 " It is worth that to me," she said, and she counted 
 out the money. 
 
 " Ah, you don't know what this means to me," the 
 lady said excitedly. " Let me show you this postcard 
 I've had from my boy. Just an official postcard from 
 his camp at Diilmen. But look. My name is Page, 
 and my boy's Christian name is Christopher. But do 
 you see what he has signed himself? " 
 
 Tamar read the signature aloud: 
 
 " Christopher Starving Page." 
 
 " I am glad you brought this ring a beautiful little 
 ring," she said in a low voice. 
 
 Then she glanced up and saw Bramfield standing near 
 the door, which he opened for the lady to pass out. 
 He had come in unawares and had witnessed the whole 
 incident. 
 
 " Tamar, Tamar," he said, " why do you ever allow 
 yourself to be so hateful, when you can be so dear? "
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 WHEN it came to the point of parting with Dor- 
 othy, poor Rupert worked himself into a state 
 of great misery and even wrath. He said he hated the 
 First Aid Nursing Yeomanry Corps, and especially the 
 Ambulance Section. Evidently Dorothy didn't love 
 him at all, or else she wouldn't be going off and leaving 
 him in this heartless fashion. Why couldn't she "make 
 up her mind to give her work up, stop at home and 
 marry him? It was ridiculous her going back to Ypres. 
 Let other members of the F. A. N. Y. take on her job. 
 She didn't love him. That's what it was. 
 
 " It isn't that I don't love you, old thing," she said. 
 " I love you very much, and think you are the greatest 
 darling on earth. But I can't give up my work nor my 
 freedom yet. I really can't. I can't face domestic life 
 and settling down to being your wife first and foremost, 
 and then all my outside life gone, just at a time when 
 one's outside life is so thrilling and interesting, and 
 one's being useful too and wanted. There now, I've 
 told you the whole thing. And you must either give me 
 up, or give me time. But don't be an idiot and think 
 I don't love you and don't want you. I do love you 
 and I do want you. But not yet." 
 
 They were sitting together on the sofa in the draw- 
 ing-room in Russell Square, and Rupert put his arms 
 round her and tried to caress and coax her into revers- 
 ing her decision. He was crying aloud for her, he said, 
 body, soul and spirit, and he could not give her up now, 
 
 190
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 191 
 
 when they were in measurable reach of the happiness 
 they had been planning, and when his share of the jewels 
 had made it possible for him to marry, and when he 
 had done his bit for the country and could not do any 
 more at any rate for the present. Her answer was 
 that he had done his bit, but that she hadn't done hers, 
 and that until she had carried out her plans and put in 
 some more months with the First Aid Nursing Yeo- 
 manry Corps she could not be any one's bride. She was 
 very dear about it, and looked entirely bewitching and 
 womanly as she stated her case, with her head snuggled 
 up against his neck, and her hand softly stroking his 
 wounded arm. But she was quite firm, and said he must 
 take it as part of the " churn up." It couldn't be 
 helped. No one was to blame except the statesmen. 
 Then, when he turned sullen and sulky over the fail- 
 ure of all his pleading and arguing, her answer was, oh, 
 well, if he wanted a girl on the old traditional lines, some 
 one content to sit at his feet and adore him, and wait 
 breathlessly all day until the sound of the garden gate 
 of the suburban villa heralded his arrival home from 
 the City, he'd better go and marry that girl at once and 
 have done with it. He could still find plenty of that 
 type, and of course there were heaps of flappers floating 
 about who would answer the purpose equally well 
 probably better. He said she knew perfectly well that 
 he didn't want any one of that description, and he 
 would be bored to tears with any one sitting at his feet 
 adoring him, and he didn't want a garden gate or a 
 villa or a suburb he didn't want anything except her 
 dashed old ambulance and all, and he supposed it 
 was all part of the " churn up," and he would have to 
 put up with it. Then she said, yes now he was talk-
 
 192 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 ing sense. Then he had another shot at getting his 
 own way and said perhaps she was sick of him because 
 he was wounded and disabled and not in the pink of 
 health, and at that she said, nonsense, that he knew per- 
 fectly well that if he were permanently disabled, or 
 blind, or disfigured, or deaf or dumb, or had both his 
 legs off or anything awful, all the Ambulance Corps in 
 the world wouldn't get the glorious chance of her serv- 
 ices they'd be his then till the end of the chapter. 
 Now didn't he really believe this, silly old thing that he 
 was ? Well, perhaps he did. Only perhaps ? she asked. 
 Well, perhaps not perhaps. Ah, that was better. 
 Would he give her time, then, instead of giving her up? 
 Of course he couldn't give her up. But couldn't she 
 just go to the registrar or to church or to any old 
 where, and then be off on her own, absolutely free 
 from him until she wished to be claimed by him so 
 that he might at least have the satisfaction of knowing 
 that he had secured her, and that she belonged to him ? 
 No, on the whole, she wasn't willing for that it 
 wouldn't answer and she wouldn't really feel free. Per- 
 haps then she wouldn't even want to feel free. Ah, so 
 he had got that out of her, had he? Good innings for 
 him, that. Then he launched another attack of coax- 
 ing and caressing, but all in vain. The line was im- 
 penetrable. Then he was angry over his defeat. Then 
 he was sullen. Then he was penitent. By the time he 
 was penitent, Dorothy had become angry. Finally 
 they were reconciled, were braced up by the encounter 
 and went off together to the theatre. 
 
 Rather mournfully Rupert showed his mother the 
 pearl and diamond ring which T. Scott had caused to
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 193 
 
 be constructed for one of his wedding gifts to his elu- 
 sive bride, for in his innermost heart he had hoped that 
 Dorothy would give in and marry him. The stones had 
 been very beautifully set by a truly cunning craftsman 
 known to Tamar for many years. 
 
 " You keep it for me, Mother," he said dejectedly, 
 " until our wedding does come off - if it ever does. I 
 can't bear the sight of it." 
 
 " Of course it will come off," Mrs. Thornton said. 
 " Very hard luck for my poor boy to have to wait, but 
 it will all right itself. I'm sure of that. Dorothy loves 
 you dearly. If you had seen her when the news came 
 of your being wounded well, I can only say she suf- 
 fered as much as I did. And I was thankful she was 
 staying with us so that we were able to share our 
 anxiety. Yes, dear, she loves you and will be true to 
 you, I'm sure. And I'm going to say something that 
 may sound strange to you. It is this. If I were Dor- 
 othy, I should do just the same, Rupe. I understand 
 it so well. I too should like to be off to the Front 
 driving an ambulance car or doing my part in some 
 way out there; Indeed I should, my dear boy. And 
 if I feel this, what must the young women be feeling? 
 Of course they want to be free. Be patient, dear, and 
 wait. She's worth it." 
 
 " Mother, you're an old sport, that's what you are," 
 he said, giving her a hug. And he added half shyly : 
 
 " I suppose the reason you feel so strongly about 
 freedom is because you were always chained up? " 
 
 Yes, she told him, in a sense she had always felt 
 chained up, and that she, even as many other women of 
 her generation, inarticulate, in a backwater of life, 
 without initiative, and drilled by tradition in an unneces-
 
 194 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 sary and unwholesome and very dull sacrifice of self, had 
 nevertheless longed at times to seek a path for herself, 
 but now was at least experiencing the joy, almost the 
 personal triumph, of seeing her own vague dreams real- 
 ized by this generation of young women. 
 
 " Not one word would I say to hinder them," she said, 
 ** even though my own darling son would have to suffer. 
 I would rather ask him to help and not to hinder." 
 
 " Dear old Mother, I will help," he said. " I'll be as 
 sporting as you are, and Dorothy can put off our mar- 
 riage for an indefinite number of months, and I swear 
 I won't sulk much." 
 
 " My darling boy," she said, her face lit up with pride 
 and pleasure, " when she's ready for you, she'll find she 
 has got the best man in the whole world." 
 
 " I believe I'll go back to Lallington for a bit after 
 she has gone," he said, " and do some fishing and have 
 a shot at some writing, and arrange the Governor's 
 archaeological notes. I should like to try and finish that 
 history of his if I can. And I'll explore the house well. 
 There may be some more precious stones knocking 
 about. And then there are the moors. I long for them 
 at times. London is all very well in its way, but my 
 heart isn't here." 
 
 " Nor mine," she confessed. " But I don't want the 
 other children to know. Perhaps I shall slip back 
 there soon. My thoughts wander there constantly, and 
 memories of your father call me." 
 
 And then they spoke of him, and dwelt on his well 
 guarded secret. Mrs. Thornton told Rupert that she 
 would always consider that Miss Scott had been sent 
 to her as a messenger of mercy. If she were never to
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 195 
 
 see her again, never to hear her name mentioned even, 
 that would make no difference. 
 
 " She has done for me the biggest ching that one 
 human being can do for another," she said. " She 
 healed a bruised spirit." 
 
 And Rupert understood. More than most people he 
 understood the needs of the spirit. He knew of those 
 hidden mysterious sources, from which alone our true 
 life of the spirit springs secret as a mountain stream 
 working its way tc the light. His mother thus was able 
 to unfold her heart to him, and she learnt more than 
 she had ever guessed of the boy's love for his father, 
 who had been almost a stranger to them all. He told 
 her for the first time how he heard his father calling 
 to him in No Man's Land. Never before had they had 
 an intimate talk about him, and they spoke frankly of 
 his complicated character, his amazing aloofness, his 
 long periods of entire indifference to their welfare, 
 his spasmodic concern on their behalf, and his lovable- 
 ness on the rare occasions when he was reachable. 
 
 Outside, the roar of the great city, the turmoil of the 
 world, the warring of the nations, conquests and defeats 
 by land and sea and air, imperishable records of heroism 
 and sacrifice, events of vast import vying with each 
 other in tragedy and significance and in that quiet 
 room, with the fire dying down unheeded, and the lights 
 unlit, a mother and son in communion with their dead. 
 
 Had she perhaps shared her thoughts and memories, 
 her sadness and disappointments, long kept secret, so 
 that her boy might always have the remembrance if he 
 wished, that in an hour of a bitter disappointment, 
 when nothing seemed worth while, his mother opened
 
 196 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 a book and turned over with him the pages of a sacred 
 record ? 
 
 Perhaps this was her reason. 
 
 He strolled in the next day to see T. Scott, and took 
 with him the four pearls. 
 
 "' I had a sort of idea that you would like to buy them 
 now, but didn't care to speak about them," he said, with 
 a smile. " This thought was very persistent in my mind 
 during the night probably because my mother and 
 I had been talking of my father, and that led one to 
 think of precious stones and you." 
 
 " I had been thinking of them and longing for them," 
 she said, her face flushing as she took the lovely sea-gems 
 in ner hands. " Last night, as I lay awake, they 
 haunted me especially this one." 
 
 She feasted her eyes on them for a long time in silence, 
 and then, with a sigh, laid them on the counter. 
 
 " If I buy them now," she said dreamily, " I shall only 
 sell them again almost at once. Perhaps you'd better 
 sell them direct to Bramfield or some one else." 
 
 " But you wanted them frightfully yourself, didn't 
 you? " he asked, astonished. 
 
 " Yes, and I want them now," she answered. " I 
 should always want them. I should never be able to 
 forget them, but " 
 
 She broke off. He waited. 
 
 " But this does not seem to be the time for adding 
 to a collection," she went on. " At moments terrible 
 moments, I rather believe it is the time for dispersing 
 a collection." 
 
 " Dispersing? " he repeated. " But you'd never be 
 able to do that, would you? I don't believe you'd be
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 197 
 
 able to do it any more than my father would have 
 been able." 
 
 " I don't know," she said, in a low voice. " I don't 
 know." 
 
 And she added, with a ghost of a smile on her face: 
 
 " If I were able to, it would only be because of the 
 * churn up.' ' 
 
 " Look here," he said, smiling at her use of the family 
 word, " if you don't want to buy them now, keep them 
 for a while and enjoy them, and revel in them in your 
 own way, and then sell them for us." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " It wouldn't be the same thing," she said. " One 
 would have to possess them absolutely, to know they 
 were one's very own. No, you must take them away 
 again. But I shall never forget them. And there is 
 something else I shall never forget your silence about 
 my temptation and the attempt I made to cheat you of 
 their value. I found out for myself that your mother 
 did not know that. And I was grateful to you. I 
 value your mother's goodwill. I should hate to have 
 to forfeit it." 
 
 " You won't ever have to," he assured her. " You 
 might do the most awful deed in the world and it 
 wouldn't make any difference to her real regard for you. 
 And as to my silence, why, that's nothing - my little 
 bit of an offering something about the size and worth 
 of a tiny seed pearl. That's all." 
 
 " But in this case, of a priceless value," she insisted. 
 
 But he said that was all nonsense, and swept his little 
 seed pearl deprecatingly away, and told her what the 
 churn up had been doing for him these last days : that 
 Dorothy would not give up her plan of returning to the
 
 198 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Front, but was really off at the end of the week. Then 
 out came all her stores of interest and experiences to 
 help to divert him. She told him secrets of the trade, 
 and taught him the difference between real and recon- 
 structed stones, and the methods of selecting them. 
 She gave him a long discourse on pearls and the precau- 
 tions to be taken to preserve their beauty, which was 
 not necessarily immutable. 
 
 " As you are becoming such an expert from reading 
 my book," she said, smiling, " you must be told things 
 which are not in my book." 
 
 Finally, to his immense amusement, and hers too, she 
 left him in charge of the shop whilst she went off on 
 some important business. In her absence he sold two 
 Louis Quartorze snuff-boxes at impiously exorbitant 
 prices, and not by mistake either, but just for fun, to 
 see whether people were really such fools as to pay any- 
 thing for some objet de vertu to which they happened 
 to have taken a fancy. 
 
 " I begin to see," he thought, " how these dealers in 
 antiques are positively encouraged to cheat, like some 
 medical specialists, in fact." 
 
 He was wondering who his next customer would be, 
 when Dorothy arrived. She had been to Russell Square, 
 and learning that he had gone to Dean Street, went off 
 to fetch him and found him in possession alone. She 
 poked about and was greatly taken by a particularly 
 beautiful antique round mirror, hanging on the wall. 
 
 " I say, old thing, it would be nice to have that for 
 our hall, wouldn't it? " she said. " I think I'll buy it 
 and keep it for * the home of homes.' ' 
 
 ** Oh, we are going to have a home, are we? " he said. 
 " May I ask when and where? "
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 199 
 
 " Of course we're going to have a home, and a hall," 
 she said. " And that mirror too, if I can get it cheap." 
 
 " Nothing cheap here," he answered. " You'll have 
 to pay dear. If you want anything at a low price, 
 you'd better go to another establishment. Besides, you 
 can't have that mirror. It's already sold." 
 
 " I don't believe it," she said. " And I'm going to 
 have it. I've taken a fancy to it. Tell me the price, 
 Rupe." 
 
 " It's already sold," he persisted. " Somebody else 
 has bought it for his home of homes. You're not the 
 only person in the world who is going to have a home 
 of homes and a hall." 
 
 " Oh, Rupe," she cried, " I believe you've made up 
 your mind to buy it because I expressed the wish. 
 What an old darling you are and don't ever believe 
 I don't love you fearfully fearfully." 
 
 She bent towards him and he held her in an embrace 
 over the counter. 
 
 Later Tamar came and saw them thus. They were 
 entirely unconscious of her arrival. She smiled, and 
 crept by on tiptoe into the kitchen, where Mrs. Bridges 
 was ironing handkerchiefs. 
 
 " I peeped in a minute ago and found them two young 
 people love-making over the counter," she said, with a 
 grin on her face. " Something new for the counter, I'm 
 thinking." 
 
 " Yes," Tamar said. " Something new for the coun- 
 ter." 
 
 " Times is changed here, and no mistake," Mrs. 
 Bridges chuckled. 
 
 " Yes, times are changed," Tamar repeated indul- 
 gently.
 
 200 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Yes," continued the old woman, " a fire in the 
 kitchen, more food, milk for every one and the cat, 
 people coming and going. Young things laughing and 
 making you laugh. It's good for you. I'm glad. 
 Ain't you pleased times is changed ? " 
 
 " Yes," Tamar answered, " perhaps I am." 
 
 " Love-making over the counter that beats me," 
 the old woman chortled. " Something new for that 
 there counter." 
 
 Something indeed new for the counter until now 
 nearly always the scene of hard and ruthless bargaining.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 IT was the hour of sunset. There had been a snow- 
 storm in the night, and the fells were still covered 
 with snow which lingered also on the moors, but had 
 vanished from the lower slopes. The bright emerald 
 green of them stood out with added vividness of tone 
 against the white background. The belt of woods, in- 
 finitely lovely in fresh May garments, was caught by a 
 shaft of fading sunlight, which for one brief moment 
 held them in a gracious radiance. All around, over 
 the wild moorland, far and near, raced the clouds, iron- 
 grey, dove-coloured, or touched with gold or purple, 
 pale green or delicate rose, snatching from the setting 
 sun any stray jewels of its fading splendour, wearing 
 them in triumph, casting them off in mournful farewell. 
 Rupert stood on the moor watching the wonder of the 
 scene, and feeling, as he always had felt, a thrill of 
 joy at the sight, the sense of space, at those rolling 
 waves of moors, giving the impression of countless tiers 
 of them, a world made up of them the only world 
 existing. For a long time he watched the changing 
 splendours, the entrancing and unexpected effects 
 wrought by cloud and wind and light, and only stirred 
 when the growing dimness revealed him the evening star. 
 Then he strolled into the village to buy some tobacco, 
 for he had planned out for himself a long evening in 
 his father's study, with his father's papers, but felt he 
 
 could not face it without a well-filled tobacco-pouch. 
 
 201 .-4
 
 202 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 He wished, if he could bring himself to do it, to ask 
 just one question of the old tobacconist, who was an 
 enthusiastic archaeologist and had been Mr. Thornton's 
 one and only intimate in Lallington. If any one knew 
 anything ut all about his father, John Grimshaw was 
 the man. And Rupert, since his talk with his mother, 
 had become more than ever interested in his father's 
 character, and longed to know more about the workings 
 of his mind. He wanted help, too, in his self-appointed 
 task of finishing his father's book on archaeology, co- 
 pious notes for the remainder of which had been left in 
 very concise and methodical form, so as to render the 
 work comparatively easy to any intelligent person who 
 might undertake it. Grimshaw would help, he felt cer- 
 tain, and, failing him, there would be others to whom 
 he could apply if he could not manage alone. Archae- 
 ology as a subject was not in his line, but he had a gift 
 for writing and a resourcefulness with his pen which en- 
 couraged him to think that he might fit himself in time 
 for a literary career. This belief had grown on him 
 since he had been ill; and during his long months of 
 recovery he had been forging ahead with his efforts, 
 almost in the same furtive way as his father had col- 
 lected precious stones. 
 
 He turned into Grimshaw's shop, bought his tobacco, 
 and then spoke about the unfinished book and his great 
 wish the wish of the whole family, indeed to bring 
 it to completion and publish it. 
 
 " Yes, it ought to be done," the old man said. " If 
 you thought I could help in any way, of course I would. 
 Much of the exploration round here in these parts we 
 did together, as you know. The very happiest hours of 
 my life, Mr. Rupert, have been spent in your father's
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 203 
 
 company. I thought I knew something about him. 
 But I evidently did not." 
 
 Rupert knew, of course, that Grimshaw was referring 
 to the discovery of the fortune in precious stones, news 
 and details of which had leaked out in that strange way 
 in which secrets, however jealously guarded, become the 
 common property of a village. For a moment he re- 
 mained silent, his pride battling with his intense desire 
 to question GrimshaT . At last, with great effort, he 
 said: 
 
 " Grimshaw, tell me, did he never once speak tc you. 
 about his collection of precious stones ? Did you never 
 have any idea, any vague suspicion from anything that 
 he might have said or done, that he was a passionate 
 lover of them and a secret collector? I could not bring 
 myself to mention the subject to you but that I know, 
 of course, that the strange story is no longer private 
 property. And even now " 
 
 He broke off. 
 
 " No, I had no idea," Grimshaw said, shaking his 
 head. " Never a sign nor a word did I have from him. 
 I believed his interest was centred in archaeology. But 
 when I learnt the story of the stones, my mind leapt 
 back to one incident which I had completely forgotten. 
 It was long ago, but it impressed me at the time. It 
 was this. We'd found many interesting things in a bar- 
 row on Shackleton Moor. I remember distinctly what 
 they were: bones of an ox and stag, remains of mill- 
 stones, querns and household implements, and a bone 
 spoon. We had put everything together except the 
 bone spoon, which he dropped and then carried in his 
 pocket. Afterwards, when we were talking about this 
 barrow and its contents, he said: ' Ah, that little bone
 
 204 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 spoon. I'd forgotten it.' And he fumbled in his pocket 
 and drew out to my astonishment together with 
 the spoon a jewel a very beautiful green stone 
 an emerald, I suppose very rich in colour I'd 
 never seen anything of the kind so beautiful. But I 
 only got a glimpse of it, for when he saw what he had 
 done, he whipped it away and looked furious. He was 
 angry with himself and angry with me. I was deeply 
 puzzled at the time. But I understand now that he 
 thought he was betraying his secret." 
 
 " Did he ever refer to the incident? " Rupert asked. 
 
 " Never," Grimshaw answered. " But he kept away 
 for some time, seemed to take a dislike to me, and went 
 on his excavations alone. Eventually his feeling 
 against me wore off, and we renewed our intercourse 
 as if nothing had happened to interrupt it." 
 
 Rupert went home and settled himself in the library, 
 where the caretaker had lit a comforting fire. He had 
 already begun to sort his father's private and personal 
 papers, and to set on one side any important ones for 
 his mother's special consideration. She had entrusted 
 him with the task of burning all her letters to his father 
 if he should find any. He now came across a packet 
 marked " Letters from my beloved wife." He threw it 
 untouched into the fire and watched it crumble into 
 blackened ashes. He found, amongst other things, a 
 volume of his father's journal, and opened it haphazard 
 to see whether it contained any reference, however brief, 
 to his secret passion. Then, still with this idea in his 
 mind, he read on and on, but found not one single sen- 
 tence which had any bearing on the subject which, as 
 was now known, had greatly engrossed him. The jour-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 205 
 
 nal was that of an archaeologist. Perhaps somewhere 
 there might be the journal of a collector of precious 
 stones. 
 
 But Rupert found nothing of the sort. 
 
 At last he did come across something which repaid 
 him for the effort and the pain and the uneasy shame 
 always felt in handling the private papers of the dead. 
 It was a long, yellow-with-age envelope. He un- 
 earthed it from the bottom drawer of his father's 
 desk. He held it in his hand and did not open 
 it. He could not. He put it back where he had 
 found it, determined that he would read no more, intrude 
 no more, probe no more. The pain was too great, the 
 shame was too great. It was taking too great a liberty 
 with the dead, who were not there to protect themselves 
 taking an unfair advantage of them. 
 
 Yet he knew that he was not actuated by a merely 
 prying spirit. He desired earnestly to know something 
 about that father whom, with so little encouragement, 
 he would have dearly loved, had loved, in fact, but in a 
 silence and a reserve which had never been challenged. 
 Nevertheless he desisted, possessed suddenly by the feel- 
 ing that he had no right to force an access denied to 
 him in life. 
 
 Instead, he turned to the impersonal archaeological 
 papers, and began to read carefully one of the chapters 
 on the barrows and enclosures in Westmoreland, which 
 his father had left imperfect so far as the structure and 
 composition were concerned, but with full details and 
 notes on separate little pieces of paper, all carefully 
 numbered and in a handwriting so microscopic as to be 
 almost illegible. Rupert remembered his father had al- 
 ways said that when he was most interested in his sub-
 
 206 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 ject, his handwriting became so small that he very often 
 had to use a magnifying glass to be able to read it 
 himself. Here, then, was a case in point. His father 
 must have been acutely interested in those particular 
 barrows. Indeed, the MS. said as much, and recorded 
 a great dispute with other archaeologists, from which 
 Mr. Thornton had evidently emerged victorious and tri- 
 umphant. Rupert opened the right-hand drawer of 
 his father's desk, took out a magnifying glass he had 
 seen there, and began to decipher and copy out the sen- 
 tences one by one. 
 
 He was so engrossed in his task that he knew noth- 
 ing about the passage of time, nor of the wind which 
 had sprung up suddenly and was raging wildly on the 
 moor and battling to find an entrance to the house 
 itself. Its angry, tumultuous, imperious voice did not 
 reach him. If he had heard it, he might perhaps have 
 gone out to its summoning. For he loved it, the might 
 of it, the elemental anarchy of it. But for once it 
 failed to claim him. He read on, wrote on, forgot the 
 outside world, his own personal concerns, Dorothy, the 
 war, the Front, his own comrades still serving, his peo- 
 ple, his plans, his ambitions everything. 
 
 But suddenly he looked up, as if some one had called 
 his name. 
 
 " Yes, Father? " he answered, rising as he spoke. 
 He stood waiting for a time. 
 
 " I could have sworn he called me," he said. " I 
 heard his voice as clearly as I heard it in No Man's 
 Land." 
 
 He sat down again, but he could not focus his atten- 
 tion on the work. He was listening, on the alert, with 
 an expression on his face of half questioning, half joy-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 207 
 
 ful wonder the exact expression he had worn at those 
 rare times when his father called and wanted him. 
 Again he heard that voice calling, " Rupert." 
 Again he answered, rose, and stood waiting. And 
 as he waited waited for he knew not what it was 
 gradually borne in on him that what he had got to do, 
 was to examine that yellow-with-age envelope and its 
 contents. Yes, he was being bidden, authorized, to 
 examine it. He had to do it and at once. 
 
 He had left it at the bottom of the drawer with 
 many other papers piled on top of it. He threw them 
 out in haste and possessed himself of it eagerly. He 
 opened it and found inside a large and old sheet of 
 parchment with writing on it. It ran thus : 
 
 " December 31st, 1789. My Pact with the Almighty. 
 
 '* This night, the eve of a New Year, I, George Rich- 
 ard Thornton, make a solemn pact with the Almighty 
 to try and cure myself of my secret covetousness. I 
 swear from this hour onwards to abstain from my se- 
 cret worship of precious stones, and from my impulse 
 to acquire them. My lust for them is unholy, my 
 thoughts are filled with longing for them when they 
 should instead be filled with aspirations, ambitions, 
 hopes, duties, affections. I feel my character being 
 undermined by their magic influence. 
 
 " With God's help, I banish them from my mind and 
 life to-night. 
 
 " GEORGE RICHARD THORNTON." 
 
 In a corner, dated December 31st, 1912, was the fol- 
 lowing sentence in the cramped handwriting of Rupert's 
 father :
 
 208 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 "Oh, my God, my God, have I not felt the same? 
 But I could not keep such a compact. I could not keep 
 it. Did he, I wonder? 
 
 " JAMES RICHAED THORNTON." 
 
 The paper fell from Rupert's hand. He was stirred 
 to the depths of his heart. This was the first, the only 
 sign they had had of the trend of his father's mind, 
 other than what T. Scott had been able to suggest to 
 them from her own personal experience. Not a single 
 entry in the diary, not a bare reference to any precious 
 stone but here, in the shelter of the old family paper, 
 a confession of his passion, a confession of his struggle, 
 an admission that he knew whither his weakness was 
 leading him, a recorded regret that he had failed and 
 would ever fail to overcome it and by seeking the 
 shelter of the old family paper, surely a plea, a hope 
 for merciful judgment, for that large forgiveness born 
 of understanding. 
 
 That was how Rupert interpreted his father's mean- 
 ing. This passion was in the family, an inheritance for 
 which he had not been responsible, and by inference 
 he asked them to deal gently with his memory. In the 
 family, was it? Well, he himself, Rupert, had certainly 
 not inherited it, but perhaps his son or his daughter 
 would Dorothy's son or daughter. It would work 
 its way out later, even as music or painting, or litera- 
 ture, or drink, or science, or great powers of organiza- 
 tion, or any accentuated tendency. How mysterious 
 and how wonderful. How wonderful life was and 
 death, how still more wonderful. 
 
 Death. It did not seem to him that death separated 
 human beings. No, rather it was a bridge of communi-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 209 
 
 cation between them, of surer, stronger structure than 
 any afforded by life. His father and himself, for in- 
 stance. In life he had never found any means of access 
 to his father, and now in death they were in touch, in 
 direct relationship with each other, not through any 
 intermediary, not by any elaborate and wearisome 
 " spirit summoning," but by direct approach from op- 
 posite sides of the bridge. And not for the exchange 
 of trivialities, but for an intercommunion with meaning 
 in it, uplifting, stimulating like the air on the moors. 
 
 Death that passing into the unknown made falsely 
 tragic through the long centuries by ordinances of 
 priests and songs of poets. And now, at all the fronts, 
 young, strong men dying in their thousands and tens of 
 thousands, swept off the face of the earth, and meeting 
 their new fate with gallant unconcern and generous giv- 
 ing. Perhaps, for all one knew, all those thousands of 
 young, strong boys were being sacrificed not only for 
 the cause they fought for, but for the far larger and 
 infinitely more spiritual purpose of bringing home to 
 the whole world the unimportance of death. And if we 
 of the West, backward in the lesson, had learnt that at 
 last, then in very truth something would have been saved 
 out of the wreck, something gained out of the slaughter, 
 the murder, the misery, the ruthless loss of life. 
 
 These thoughts passed swiftly through Rupert's 
 mind as he held the family document in his hand. Then 
 he replaced it in its envelope, and put it in his breast 
 pocket. It was a treasure to him, and he knew well 
 that it would be a treasure to his mother, infinitely 
 more precious than the choicest gem stone. 
 
 And then, his tension over, his detachment ended, he 
 became aware of the storm.
 
 210 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 It summoned him, urging him to free himself from all 
 oppressive thought and come forth to meet and greet 
 it. He went. The wind made a furious onslaught on 
 him, but he battled with it and pursued his way over the 
 moor, uplifted, not oppressed by the physical effort, re- 
 joicing in and not dismayed by the thousand voices of 
 the turbulent night. 
 
 Rupert did not write home of the discovery he had 
 made. He preferred to wait until he could tell his 
 mother himself and put into her hands the old family 
 paper, made sacred by his father's words. Together 
 they would be able to speak with reverent realization 
 of the struggle of his soul laid bare, his recorded fail- 
 ure, his appeal for merciful interpretation. 
 
 Not again did he hear his father's voice calling his 
 name as he worked in the library at the archaeological 
 chapters, or at his own literary ventures. At times he 
 was depressed by Dorothy's absence, and on these occa- 
 sions wrote her screeds of reproach which he after- 
 wards destroyed. He sent her instead loving little let- 
 ters, and said he was waiting patiently for the home 
 of homes, but, all the same, he was not exactly blessing 
 the First Aid Yeomanry Corps. 
 
 " But I'm very proud of my girl," he added more 
 than once, " and I try to remember the ' churn up.' ' 
 
 He shot over the moors with some friends of his who 
 came from Westmoreland, golfed a little with others, 
 and played a game of billiards now and again at the Sta- 
 tion Hotel. One of his comrades, disabled, like himself, 
 in the war ,and badly needing a good dose of bracing 
 air stayed with him, and together with him roamed 
 the country, a lover of Nature, like himself, and an
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 211 
 
 enthusiastic botanist, interested also in the legends of 
 all the different counties, and especially in those of 
 Yorkshire. 
 
 Even as Rupert, he was glad land proud to have done 
 his bit for his country, and thankful without any pre- 
 tence to be released by circumstances from further fight- 
 ing claims. He hated the whole business of fighting. 
 His outlook and Rupert's was that of many of the 
 gallant young fellows who came forward in those early 
 days, in the hour of their country's need. They were 
 not necessarily warriors by nature and inclination, nor 
 inspired by love of adventure and excitement. Duty 
 impelled them, and they gave their bodies to be sacri- 
 ficed but something more too, no record of which is 
 ever found in the annals of honour they gave their 
 spirits to be lacerated, and received wounds grievous, 
 though invisible, not easily healed, if, indeed, ever. 
 
 Rupert's friend was one of these. 
 
 But he found balm in the quiet countryside scenes, 
 the sheep passing along the road to change of pasture, 
 the cows slowly wending their way home in a long, thin, 
 straggling line, the beautiful old grey homesteads and 
 halls, with their mullioned windows and stone lintels: 
 in the wonderful moors, changing their aspect in re- 
 sponse to cloud and light and wind, in the hollows of 
 the clustering hills, in the emerald uplands, in the 
 walks over fell and dale or through woods or by the 
 rushing glacier-cold river. 
 
 Thoughts of the war receded, as Nature, ever healing 
 and beneficent, pressed her claims with tender insistence 
 and offered her ministration.
 
 PART II
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PEOPLE had given up speculating when the war 
 would be over. The war had evidently come to 
 stay. Prophets of the early days beat a judicious re- 
 treat in their mantles to Heaven, or elsewhere. Battles 
 were being lost and won. Statesmen fell from power, 
 rose to power. The agony of Belgium was shown to 
 have been only the beginning of the tragedies awaiting 
 the small nations, and the whole world was gradually 
 becoming involved in a struggle, the magnitude of which 
 made all former wars appear in comparison like child's 
 play. The manhood of the belligerent countries was 
 being cut down in tens of thousands. Invention and 
 scientific research were being pressed into the service of 
 destruction. Every effort had to be met by counter 
 effort, and by changes in outlook and custom and tradi- 
 tion which would not have been thought possible in Eng- 
 land at the outset of the war. 
 
 Yet the changes had to come, the slacking had to 
 begin to die its slow death, and the irresponsibility of 
 politicians and public had to be replaced by wide vision 
 and intimate concern, if the British Empire was to 
 hold its own against the increasing menace to its exist- 
 ence. The only thing in England which did not need 
 to be changed was the temper of the men who went out 
 to France, and later to Gallipoli and Mesopotamia and 
 Salonika and Palestine. Splendid they went. Splendid 
 they remained. Those who followed to fill their empty 
 ranks, carried on this unchanging record of courage, 
 
 215
 
 216 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 devotion and endurance, together with the men of the 
 Navy, the merchantmen, the mine-sweepers, the sub- 
 marines and the airmen, those amazing boys who seemed 
 to have sprung up ready and equipped for service, even 
 as Athene from Zeus's head, with a mighty war shout 
 and in full armour. And should not we add to the 
 list the gallant nurses in the hospital ships passing per- 
 manently backwards and forwards in the danger zones ? 
 
 Perhaps the greatest changes in what the Thornton 
 children called the " churn up " was the gradual par- 
 ticipation of women in the conduct of the war. At the 
 beginning, thousands of women volunteered their serv- 
 ices and had been snuffed out with promptness and 
 something approaching contempt. They were told to 
 go back to their proper place, their homes. Later, it 
 was intimated to them that perhaps their proper place 
 was not their home, but aeroplane and munition fac- 
 tories, motor omnibuses, railway stations, canteens, the 
 War Office, the Censor's office, the Admiralty, the Front, 
 anywhere and everywhere except the best-paid positions. 
 But this great change born of necessity, was to have 
 far-reaching consequences. If politicians could have 
 staved it off, they probably would have done so. But 
 they were powerless. The war could not be carried on 
 without the women's help, and the women were willing 
 enough, given the opportunity. 
 
 Many had already gone abroad to give our Allies the 
 services which had been rejected by their own country. 
 But now England decided that she could not do without 
 them, much to the disgust of various old military " dug- 
 outs " like Mrs. Thornton's brother, and, indeed, num- 
 berless other reactionaries in civil life who ha/1 not even 
 the distinction of being " dug out," but had remained
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 217 
 
 firmly embedded like fossils in the deposit of aeons 
 of tradition. Choleric old gentlemen, mid-Victorian 
 ladies, selfish parents formed this feeble and futile bat- 
 talion. Like many another battalion, it was doomed 
 to be wiped out, no reserve forces coming up in time to 
 lend it succour. 
 
 It was visiting day in the St. Ursula Military Hos- 
 pital, a cold, wet day in August. In Ward Z, where 
 Marion Thornton worked as a nursing orderly, most of 
 the patients had their relations or friends at their bed- 
 sides, and parcels of gifts of various kinds on their lock- 
 ers. Mothers and wives and sweethearts and sisters, 
 fathers and brothers, some in khaki, some in plain clothes 
 with the silver , badge of services rendered and enced, 
 made a brave show of family life, to which a few wee 
 babes contributed a not always silent share. 
 
 The Sister in Charge was off duty, the nurses were 
 having a cup of tea behind the screen near the fireplace, 
 official life was for the moment suspended whilst the 
 visitors were in possession of the fort. 
 
 But there were, of course, always some men who had 
 no callers, men whose homes were in Scotland, or Corn- 
 wall, or in any remote part of the United 'Kingdom ; 
 for the mysterious methods of that amazing institution, 
 the War Office, secured the results that Private A. 
 Jones, of Edinburgh, or Glasgow, or Land's End, or 
 Durham, or Cardiff, would be landed in a London hos- 
 pital, and Private B. Smith of London would find him- 
 self in Edinburgh, or Glasgow or Land's End, or Dur- 
 ham, or Cardiff. The men accepted this strange dis- 
 pensation with the same stoicism, good-nature and 
 cheerfulness with which they met every contingency 
 born of the war.
 
 218 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " At least we're back in old Blighty," they said. 
 " But the War Office has got funny ways and no mis- 
 take." 
 
 Forty-six beds, in three long rows, stretching from 
 the staircase door to the exit by the lift. Fractured 
 femurs, wounded arms, amputated legs, amputated 
 arms, injured spines, trench feet, shrapnel in the face, 
 broken jaws, blinded eyes, burnt and bandaged heads, 
 burnt hands, paralysed hands, gas suffocation, poison- 
 ous wounds which will not heal, operations which have 
 to be repeated time after time, suffering, sleeplessness, 
 restlessness and yet the dominant note of the at- 
 mosphere a patience almost divine and a cheerfulness 
 and courage indescribable. The courage of the battle- 
 field whilst doing more than their part there. The 
 courage of the hospital ward in continuance of that rec- 
 ord of heroism. And kindness to each other, unselfish- 
 ness, generosity, willingness to share everything cig- 
 arettes, the last shred of tobacco, visitors, however dear 
 and something still more precious and priceless the 
 last match ! 
 
 No grumblings, then, no grousing at all? Oh, yes, a 
 little, of course. Always two or three in a ward to 
 undertake that necessary and healthy office. Good for 
 the tone of the ward, too, makes the Sister sit up, the 
 nurses sit up, the doctors sit up, the masseuses, the 
 librarians, the chaplain, the entertainment organizer, 
 the needlework orderly, the pay office orderly, and all 
 the powers that be. But extraordinarily little of it 
 that's the wonder and in perfect unison all the trades, 
 occupations, professions and businesses work together 
 to suppress it. 
 
 Miners, butchers, grocers, clerks, railwaymen, tin-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 219 
 
 platers, wheelwrights, drapers, public librarians, print- 
 ers, bookbinders, piano makers, carpenters, divers, fish- 
 curers, engineers, motor drivers, electricians, builders, 
 land labourers, dairymen, university men, secondary 
 teachers, compositors, estate agents, telegraphists, wire- 
 less operators, telephonists, shipwrights, actors, boxers, 
 organists, commercial travellers all closely united in 
 a silent, unconscious conspiracy to make the ward as 
 cheery as possible and snuff out anything in the nature 
 of acute grousing. Every kind of temperament, every 
 kind of outlook or none, every kind of character : rough 
 dispositions, gentle ones, tough ones, surly, sulky, joy- 
 ous, silent, reserved, proud, somewhat haughty, a bit 
 patronizing, a bit aloof, devil-me-care, reflective, intro- 
 spective, self-centred, a little bitter, a little angry, 
 warm-hearted, gracious of spirit, radiating charm and 
 courtesy and all conspirators in the cause of the 
 ward. 
 
 All of them, or nearly all of them the exceptions 
 being so few as to be negligible in league to lessen 
 the anxiety of their dear ones at home, whether in New 
 Zealand, Australia, Canada, Buenos Ayres, Liverpool, 
 Exeter, Glasgow, Coventry, Deal, or anywhere. One 
 man dying almost and yet whispering: 
 
 "Tell them I'm all right. Shall soon be better. 
 Tell them not to worry." 
 
 Operation after operation, and always the same re- 
 port: 
 
 " Tell them I'm jumping." 
 
 Or, if able to write themselves : 
 
 " Hoping this finds you in the best of pink, as it 
 leaves me." 
 
 Animosity to the enemy ? Not much, if at all. Mr.
 
 220 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Fritz dead, or at a distance, becomes a blighter who 
 couldn't help himself more than Tommy could. 
 
 Strange and wonderful creatures, unconscious teach- 
 ers, acting not preaching patience, endurance, cheerful- 
 ness, kindness, unselfishness, sweetness, charged with a 
 spiritual message to all who come in contact with them 
 day after day, to make the best of everything, every 
 circumstance, however uncompromising, every disabil- 
 ity, however appalling. 
 
 " Nurse," called out one of the patients in a bed not 
 far off from the screen behind which the nurses were 
 having their little bit of off-time and their cup of tea. 
 
 Marion Thornton emerged immediately and went to 
 Private Seymour's bed. He was a fractured femur 
 case, and he was swung up on a mysterious structure 
 attached to the bed, which, to a la} 7 mind, had the ap- 
 pearance of some sort of compromise between a family 
 poster bed with weights attached and a devilish torture 
 contrivance borrowed from the Inquisition. His head 
 was low, and his legs, spread out, were high up. Yet 
 he was fairly comfortable, now accustomed to the posi- 
 tion ; and his reward would probably be, that his in j ured 
 thigh and leg would be stretched out almost to the nor- 
 mal, and that when he was finally rescued from his en- 
 durance and on his feet again, he would not be a helpless 
 cripple with easy locomotion hopelessly gone for ever. 
 
 " Nurse," he said, " I'm parched with thirst." 
 
 " All right, Seymour," she said, " I'll bring you a 
 drink." When she brought it, he said: 
 
 " That friend of yours hasn't come." 
 
 " Oh, she'll come," Marion answered. " It's early 
 yet, only half-past two."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 221 
 
 But, as she went away, she thought : 
 
 " She promised faithfully to come today. Weeks and 
 weeks I've been at her. Again and again I've told her 
 that Seymour is lonely and never has any visitors. 
 Surely she won't fail now that she has promised at last." 
 
 For Marion had left Tamar no peace about this 
 wounded man who had no friends to visit him, and who 
 lay silent and rather morose day after day, and had 
 never shown any interest in anything until that one 
 memorable afternoon when a book on the subject of pre- 
 cious stones had by chance strayed his way. Time 
 after time Marion had dashed into the shop in Dean 
 Street and said: 
 
 "Now, Miss Scott, won't you come this week? Do, 
 there's a dear. Seymour does so want to have a talk 
 with you about rubies and pearls, and all the wonderful 
 things you know. I do want you to come. I do think 
 you might." 
 
 " Some day, perhaps," Tamar always said vaguely. 
 " There's plenty of time, as you say he is likely to be 
 in hospital for months. Not this week." 
 
 The truth was that Tamar dreaded the sight of ill- 
 ness. It was not that she was not mildly interested in 
 Marion's hospital. She had had to listen to so many 
 accounts of it from Marion, that she knew it by heart. 
 She never discouraged the girl, of whom she had become 
 fond. She loved her eagerness and her impulsive ways, 
 her enthusiasm for her work and devotion to duty. She 
 would have done a good deal for Marion, but she could 
 not brace herself up to go and see the wounded sol- 
 diers. Marion got tobacco out of her and a liberal 
 supply of " Woodbines," numberless boxes of matches, 
 now and again some fruit, and constantly chocolates.
 
 222 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 The process of obtaining these bounties was always the 
 same. 
 
 " Our men like chocolates," Marion said with a bright 
 smile. 
 
 "Oh, do they? " said Tamar dryly, as if the matter 
 did not concern her at all. Then a day or two would 
 elapse and the chocolates came. 
 
 " Our boys can't have enough ' Woodbines,' " said 
 Marion. " They do smoke them quickly." 
 
 " Indeed," said Tamar mechanically. 
 
 Then three or four days would elapse and the 
 " Woodbines " arrived. 
 
 " Our boys love fruit," said Marion. " It does them 
 no end of good." 
 
 "Indeed," remarked Tamar with apparent indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 Then perhaps a week would go by and the fruit 
 arrived. 
 
 " Our ward is badly off for gramophone records," 
 said Marion, who grew bolder in her demands. 
 
 " Horrible things," Tamar said severely. " They 
 ought to be forbidden by Act of Parliament." 
 
 Then another week, perhaps two weeks, would pass, 
 and the horrible things arrived. 
 
 But when it came to the question of visiting the hos- 
 pital, Tamar held out stubbornly, until at length she 
 was obliged to succumb to Marion's insistence and name 
 the actual day. Up to this she had parried all the at- 
 tacks made on her unwillingness on the many occasions 
 when Marion visited her; for the St. Ursula Hospital 
 was only a step from Dean Street, and as Mrs. Thorn- 
 ton had truly said, the Thornton children appeared to 
 think it was their right to run in whenever they wished.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Tamar shared their views, and poured out many a cup 
 of tea for Marion in the inner room. Once or twice 
 she even brought one of the other orderlies from the 
 hospital, a girl with a mass of red hair and eyes as blue 
 as the most beautiful specimen of aquamarine, and as 
 dashing and upspringing as Marion herself. Wasn't 
 this too much of a good thing, Mrs. Thornton had 
 asked, when she had heard of the visitation? No, 
 Tamar had given it to be understood that she liked these 
 surprises from the young people, and that there would 
 always be tea served in Marion's special Crown Derby 
 cups, and always a welcome. 
 
 And now, at the moment when Marion was wondering 
 whether she were going to keep her promise, she had 
 dutifully arrived at the hospital, presented her permit 
 at the Transport Office at the gate, and been told where 
 to go. She crossed the courtyard, and suddenly a bell 
 rang, and as suddenly young women from all quarters 
 ran into the courtyard and lined up in front of a Ser- 
 geant-Major. A girl carrying a basket of books, and 
 with an armlet marked " Library," said to Tamar : 
 
 " You'd better step in here. A convoy is coming, 
 and no one is supposed to be in the courtyard. Where 
 do you want to go ? " 
 
 Tamar showed the permit. 
 
 " West Block, opposite," the girl said. " This is the 
 East. But if you wait here, you'll see the convoy come 
 in. It's very interesting. Then you can cross after- 
 wards." 
 
 Tamar nodded assent. She was rather quelled and 
 bewildered. She would have agreed to anything sug- 
 gested, and above all to a suggestion that she should
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 depart instantly. She had not expected to see such a 
 big building; and all the blocks and rows of windows, 
 and the thought that hundreds of wounded must be 
 lying in those huge wards, suffering and mutilated, ap- 
 palled her. And now she was going to see some of the 
 men coming straight from the trenches. Her heart 
 beat. For the first time she was face to face with the 
 consequences of the war in England. Another bell. 
 The convoy had arrived. Two women in the uniform 
 of the hospital, but with red collars instead of the blue 
 she knew now so well, emerged from the main office, the 
 taller of the two holding a list in her hands. 
 
 " Our C. O. and our Surgeon-in-Chief ," explained the 
 orderly. 
 
 Tamar nodded again. She knew them to be doc- 
 tors, for she had been well drilled by her tyrant. Her 
 interest was now getting the better of her appre- 
 hension. 
 
 Then in glided four large grey ambulances marked 
 Red Cross. Out of them in succession were lifted the 
 stretchers, with their wounded freight, and laid on the 
 ground. At once, at a sign from the Sergeant-Ma j or, 
 two girls stepped out from the line, and with an ease 
 and agility which astonished Tamar, bore the soldier 
 to the lift, directions as to his destination being given 
 by the C. O. from her list. This process was repeated 
 with four more ambulances, and yet another four, until 
 all the wounded had disappeared and all the orderlies. 
 The quickness, efficiency and care filled Tamar with 
 admiration, and her heart was touched by pity and con- 
 cern as she looked upon the wounded men fresh from the 
 trenches, most of them in acute pain and exhausted 
 from all they had been through at the front and from
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 225 
 
 the journey, and yet with an expression of relief and 
 gladness on their faces at being once more safely home 
 in old Blighty. They lay so still in their stretchers, 
 some of them clasping the flowers which had been show- 
 ered on them at the station, symbols of welcome, of 
 gratitude, of admiration, of sympathy. 
 
 A mist rose before Tamar's eyes. 
 
 The orderlies returned with empty stretchers. The 
 ambulances dashed off. The Doctors vanished. The 
 Sergeant-Ma j or dismissed his stretcher-bearers. Peo- 
 ple began crossing the courtyard again. Tamar, con- 
 ducted by the library orderly, who said she was going to 
 the same ward, crossed too, mounted the stone stairs, 
 and, after two or three flights, arrived at Ward Z. She 
 paused outside. She suddenly felt nervous, worried, re- 
 luctant to face the sights she dreaded. 
 
 " I have never been in a hospital ward," she said. " I 
 don't know whether I can go in." 
 
 The girl glanced at her in surprise. 
 
 " Can't you? " she asked. " Oh, yes, I think you can. 
 You'll find all the men very cheerful. In fact, if one 
 wants to be cheered and heartened in these days, all one 
 has to do is to go into a ward. At least that has been 
 my experience. Whom do you want to see? " 
 
 The girl's face lit up when she read the name of Sey- 
 mour on Tamar's admission paper. 
 
 " Seymour," she said eagerly. " I am glad. He's 
 the man who only cares to read about jewels. Are you 
 by any chance the lady whom Nurse Thornton is always 
 speaking of, some one who knows all about precious 
 stones and could make Seymour very happy? Oh, do 
 say you are. We all want to buck him up, and he 
 doesn't care about ordinary things."
 
 226 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Yes, I am Nurse Thornton's friend," Tamar said, 
 smiling at her eagerness. 
 
 There was no chance of lingering when this fact was 
 known. Tamar was bundled into the ward, hurried up 
 to the screen and before she knew where she was, taken 
 possession of by Marion, who held on to her fast as if 
 to prevent any possibility of escape. 
 
 Marion wore no nurse's cap, being a nursing orderly. 
 She had a white overall over her uniform, and looked 
 very responsible and business-like. 
 
 " You are a brick to come," she said. " You don't 
 mind much, do you? " 
 
 " I don't mind so much now I have come," Tamar 
 answered. " But I rather dreaded it. I believe I 
 should have bolted at the door but for that girl with the 
 books. She hustled me in when she knew who I was." 
 
 Marion laughed. 
 
 " She would, of course," she said. " She knows I 
 wanted you to come. Well, I forgive you now, but 
 you've been a wicked woman to delay so long." 
 
 " I've brought some of my best stones for him to see," 
 Tamar said penitently. 
 
 Marion gave her a dig of approval and led her right 
 down the ward. None of the men took any notice of 
 her, most of them being occupied with their visitors. 
 And when she stood before Seymour's bed she forgot her 
 fears entirely, a great compassion taking the place of 
 her former reluctance. So this was the soldier she had 
 so often refused to come and see, this man wounded 
 grievously at Festubert, and now enduring patiently his 
 martyrdom of recovery. He had wanted to talk with 
 her, had looked forward to discuss with her the one sub- 
 ject on which he was really keen, and revived interest in
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 227 
 
 which would have cheered him and helped his recovery, 
 and she had persistently refused to come ; and then, when 
 she had been forced by Marion to promise, she had put 
 off the evil hour and made every excuse simply because 
 she could not bring herself to take the trouble on behalf 
 of a stranger or to face illness. What a brute she 
 had been, what a selfish beast. This man had been 
 wounded for her that was what it came to and 
 she had not been willing to do a little service for him, 
 to make a little sacrifice of time and sensitiveness to 
 give him pleasure. Well, she would retrieve now. 
 
 She did retrieve. She brushed aside with a supreme 
 effort all her unwillingness, all her natural unease in the 
 presence of sickness. She forgot herself. She tided 
 over the man's shyness and somewhat sulky reserve. 
 She claimed him as a comrade, an ally, a fellow lover of 
 precious stones, a sharer in that strange passion for 
 their magic beauty, understood only by those touched 
 by their mysterious influence. Out of her breast she 
 drew a small packet, and from this packet she took one 
 of her finest rubies, one of her choicest emeralds, one of 
 her rarest sapphires, of cornflower colour and of peer- 
 less lustre, and one or two of her loveliest pearls. Sey- 
 mour's face lit up and his eyes feasted on them as he 
 fingered them, as he listened to the comments on their 
 characteristics from lips that praised and explained 
 them with intense enthusiasm. She had brought her 
 own book on precious stones, and she showed him the 
 glorious plates, discussed knotty points with him, talked 
 about the various methods of cutting and mounting gem- 
 stones, told him some of the stories and traditions in 
 connection with them, and poured out all her rich stores 
 of knowledge and interest for his benefit. Out of the
 
 228 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 satchel she produced other stones, less valuable, but all 
 exceedingly beautiful specimens, amongst them two 
 opals, one an Australian opal with flashes and spangles 
 of heliotrope and moss-green colouring, and the other 
 flame-red and brilliant green both of them entrancing 
 enough to make an enthusiast almost weep from joy and 
 wonder. 
 
 Seymour was one of those not only wounded in the 
 flesh, but in the spirit. The horrors of war had numbed 
 him. He had lain for two days, grievously wounded 
 and unfound amongst a number of dead comrades, him- 
 self longing for release and death which did not come. 
 The memory of that awful time still haunted him, and he 
 had not been able to dispel it successfully as many other 
 men who had been through the same appalling experi- 
 ence, seen their friends shattered, blown to fragments, 
 and survived alone, cut off, hemmed in, undiscovered. 
 Like Rupert Thornton's friend, like Rupert Thornton 
 himself, everything in his natural disposition was averse 
 to war, and though he had done his part willingly and 
 gallantly, and had been mentioned in Dispatches for a 
 special act of heroism and resourcefulness, he was pay- 
 ing the double price of physical and spiritual injuries. 
 They were healing his body in hospital ; but Seymour's 
 real self, the self that did not show, that gave no sign, 
 no response and yet counted more than anything, re- 
 mained out of their reach, out of their ken. 
 
 But Tamar reached it. A miracle took place. The 
 man came back to life again. He forgot the war, for- 
 got himself. His interest was reawakened. His imagi- 
 nation was stimulated. Apathy and indifference fell 
 from him as a mask. He told her he had always been 
 interested in mineralogy, and had spent many an hour
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 229 
 
 in the Jermyn Street Museum, and there and elsewhere 
 learnt to love precious stones, and to gather a little 
 knowledge about them not much, but enough to make 
 him desire to know more. Tamar listened and nodded 
 and approved, and smiled with pleasure. Here was a 
 true comrade in spirit. And in that brief hour, there 
 sprang up a freemasonry between them possible only to 
 those who care passionately for the same thing, old vio- 
 lins, rare old illuminated manuscripts, precious stones, 
 Nature in all her manifestations, music in all her mani- 
 fold voices, art in her many wondrous expressions, old 
 buildings majestic in form and tradition, the setting of 
 the sun, the rising of the moon all things which stand 
 for more than meets the eye. 
 
 The bell rang. The visitors stood up. Their time 
 was over. 
 
 " You'll come again," Seymour said, as Tamar also 
 rose to go. " I've lots more to ask you." 
 
 " Yes, I'll come again," she answered. " And I'll 
 bring some more stones with me." 
 
 "You're not going to take that book away?" he 
 asked anxiously. 
 
 " No, no," she said, smiling. " I'm leaving that with 
 you for a week or two." 
 
 He thanked her for her visit. He said it had done 
 him ever so much good to have this talk with her, and 
 he told her he should study her book and read every 
 word. 
 
 Marion dashed at her as she passed down the ward. 
 
 " I've just glanced at Seymour," she said. " I should 
 scarcely have known him. What have you been doing 
 to him, you wonderful person? Sister will be pleased 
 when she comes on duty. I'll take you downstairs. I
 
 230 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 have to go to the dispensary. What a pity it's a cold 
 day. If it had been fine, you would have seen the court- 
 yard crowded with beds. Such a nice sight. Never 
 mind. Perhaps it will be fine when you come next week. 
 You are coming next week, aren't you? Promise." 
 
 Tamar did not answer. Her concentration over, she 
 was feeling bewildered again. The row of beds with 
 their wounded occupants struck her with renewed awe 
 and anxiety and with a sudden panic of realization that 
 this was what war meant broken lives, helpless vic- 
 tims, long drawn-out suffering. 
 
 An impulse to cover her eyes, to run away so that 
 she might see no more. An impulse to shout. Then an 
 impulse of another kind an impulse to make sure that 
 those precious stones were safe in her breast. A sud- 
 den apprehension lest any harm should befall that beau- 
 tiful book she had rashly left behind. The end of the 
 ward reached. Relief. Yet elation and gladness that 
 she had done a real little bit of personal service. The 
 stone stairs again. Men with wounded arms going 
 down to see their visitors off. Others coming up, hav- 
 ing already said their good-byes. A blinded soldier 
 being led by a one-armed pal. A very young boy and 
 his sweetheart finishing up their love-making in a dark 
 corner in the basement. Then the courtyard once 
 more. Marion's voice directing attention to the dispen- 
 sary and the chief compounder and her orderlies who 
 were carrying off a cylinder of oxygen. And adjoin- 
 ing this department, the bacteriologist's headquarters, 
 and inside a Doctor recognizable by her red collar, with 
 eyes glued to a microscope. The Quarter-Master hur- 
 rying across the courtyard pre-occupied with some 
 problem concerning food or kits. Sisters returning to
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 231 
 
 their duties, so faithfully discharged and with a devo- 
 tion no words could describe. The Matron, calm and 
 steady, on her way to the wards, followed by her white 
 dog, speaking to the head masseuse armed with her radi- 
 ant heat apparatus. The C. O. and Surgeon-in-Chief 
 on the steps of the main entrance, in close consultation, 
 supported by a black Aberdeen terrier and a white one. 
 The entertainment organizer with her blue armlet mark- 
 ing her official capacity, fixing up a notice of a special 
 concert on the board under the C. O.'s office window. 
 The Chaplain coming back with a party of men. A 
 librarian carrying a large packet of Nat Gould's novels, 
 with the same anxious care that T. Scott would have 
 bestowed on a consignment of Burmah rubies. Four or 
 five beds of wounded men in the corner of the courtyard 
 facing the Quarter-Master's offices. A Sister stopping 
 to ask Corporal Reeves whether he had had enough of 
 the cold wind and would like to go back to his ward? A 
 London County Council ambulance suddenly arriving. 
 A convoy? No, not a convoy this time. Perhaps a 
 *' drunk " or some one taken ill on leave. And now the 
 transport office again, with one of the orderlies tele- 
 phoning, and the transport officer herself interviewing 
 some angry relative who has come on the wrong day to 
 the wrong hospital to see his wrong son. 
 
 " But I'm telling you it isn't the right hospital," she 
 repeats patiently enough, considering she has made the 
 remark ten times over. 
 
 " Then it ought to be," he exclaims with added indig- 
 nation. 
 
 The pink permit given up. The glimpse at the every- 
 day life of the St. Ursula Military Hospital over. Out- 
 side the gates once more.
 
 232 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 The ordeal dreaded and postponed so often safely 
 passed through. 
 
 In the inner room that evening, Tamar, as she put 
 back her precious stones into the safe and chose a few 
 others for her next visit to the hospital, reviewed her 
 experiences and impressions of the afternoon. The 
 memory of Seymour's pleasure filled her with satisfac- 
 tion in having been able to render to one needing it, a 
 little bit of personal service, something which called for 
 the best output of which she wes capable and as such, 
 was finer than any mere gift of money. It was her first 
 actual personal service in the war. It is true, she had 
 been sending off cheques increasingly, sometimes to Ger- 
 trude Linton for her refugees in Holland, sometimes to 
 various war committees in England. At first she only 
 wanted to ease her conscience; but as time went on, 
 other and better impulses guided her action. But to- 
 night, as she recalled the vision of that ward full of 
 wounded and broken soldiers, symbolic to her of all the 
 thousands and tens of thousands of men sacrificed for 
 England's sake for her sake, she saw it clearty for 
 the first time that our debts to them could not be dis- 
 charged by money only. Money was necessary, and 
 would have to be sent in all directions to help to meet 
 the increasing demands. But however big the cheques, 
 however frequent their dispatch, they could not exoner- 
 ate the senders from failing to give service, personal 
 service of some kind, at some period. 
 
 No, one had in addition to give one's strength, one's 
 time, one's kindness, one's tenderness, one's skill, one's 
 compassion, as those women were doing whom she had 
 seen this day. So this was what women were doing, not
 
 there only, but everywhere. She had heard vaguely of 
 the part women were already taking in the war, and had 
 learnt, of course, a few definite details of the changes 
 going on from Winifred, and Marion and Dorothy, but 
 she had not really progressed much further than a per- 
 sonal, individual interest in these few isolated people 
 with whom she had been brought in actual contact. 
 Yet, considering she was Tamar, this had been a de- 
 cided advance. But today had come the great push, 
 today a larger grasp of events, today a wider outlook, a 
 revelation of facts and duties and claims, and a realiza- 
 tion of the joy in answering their call. 
 
 She was still under the influence of these thoughts and 
 touched to her heart's core with the scenes of suffering 
 she had witnessed, when Bramfield came, bowed with 
 grief at the news that his boy Bruce was wounded and 
 a prisoner of the Germans at Doberitz. His face was 
 ashen, his eyes looked dazed, all his vitality seemed to 
 have gone. He sat huddled up, half shivering, and 
 murmuring : 
 
 " I don't know how to bear it I don't know how to 
 bear it my beautiful boy wounded that's bad 
 enough but taken prisoner of the Germans at 
 Hooge at the mercy of those brutes I don't know 
 how to bear it, Tamar." 
 
 It was more than she could stand to see him in this 
 condition of misery and despair. She had all along 
 been most kind and tender to Bramfield about his con- 
 tinuous anxiety regarding Bruce, and now that this defi- 
 nite bad news had reached him, an impulse of love, of 
 pity, of protection swept through her. 
 
 He had brought his trouble direct to her, and she
 
 234. WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 would not fail him, did not wish to fail him. She knelt 
 by his side, gathered him to her arms, -laid his head on 
 her breast, stroked his hair, fondled him, comforted him. 
 
 " We will bear it together, you and I," she said. 
 
 " Tamar, Tamar," he cried, as his lips sought hers.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SO in Bramfield's hour of bitter trial he had won Ta- 
 mar. Whether he could keep her was another mat- 
 ter. He knew that. But meantime he was uplifted, 
 grateful beyond words, filled with love and tenderness 
 for her, and strengthened to meet and bear his trouble 
 by the knowledge that he was no longer alone ; that she, 
 so long yearned for, was going to be his at last, and 
 would share with him everything that life might now 
 bring, hopes and joys and fears and plans and daily 
 events. But for the thought of that wounded prisoner 
 in Doberitz, Bramfield would have been the happiest, 
 proudest man in the British Empire. 
 
 And Tamar? Tamar was uplifted, too, a little 
 frightened perhaps that she was parting with her lib- 
 erty, that she had let herself go, but glad she had broken 
 down the barrier raised by herself all these years and 
 reached that haven of love and kindness which had been 
 waiting for her to possess in full entirety. She knew 
 she could never love Bramfield as he loved her. She had 
 not it in her to do so. She made no pretence to him 
 about it. But she did say at last that she wanted him ; 
 that during the time when he had punished her for her 
 hatefulness by absenting himself and avoiding her, as 
 she had indeed deserved, she had learnt that she could 
 not do without him, and that life without him was un- 
 bearable, unthinkable, and that her love and admiration 
 for him had grown by more intimate knowledge of his 
 life and character. 
 
 235
 
 236 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " I'm not worthy of you, Bramfield," she said. 
 " That's quite evident. You're great-hearted and gen- 
 erous, and I'm mean and avaricious and grasping. But 
 you know all that." 
 
 " I know that you make great efforts with yourself 
 and successful ones, my Tamar," he said gently. " As 
 for my virtues, well, I think you must be mistaking me 
 for one of your favourite stones your best pigeon- 
 blood ruby." 
 
 " No," she said, half wistfully. " Not that. I only 
 wish I could love you as passionately as I do my fa- 
 vourite ruby. But I never could, Bramfield; indeed, I 
 couldn't." 
 
 " I couldn't expect such a miracle," he said, with a 
 twinkle in his eye. " I should be a fool. But perhaps 
 you might manage to put me on a level with a humble 
 garnet. That would be better than nothing." 
 
 She laughed her soft little laugh and caressed his 
 hand which was resting in hers. 
 
 " How very beautiful you look, my Tamar," he said. 
 " How very beautiful when you are good and happy." 
 
 She blushed and looked still more beautiful. 
 
 " Well, one thing is very certain," she said. " I 
 sha'n't always be good and happy, and therefore not 
 always beautiful." 
 
 " No, of course not," he answered. " But always 
 dear to me, whatever you are. And now what about an 
 engagement ring? No use giving you anything with a 
 stone in it. You would only criticize it and want to 
 quarrel about its lustre or weight. I know you. But 
 here's a ring made at the front from a German bullet 
 and sent me by Bruce. I prize it very much. Do you 
 think you could wear it to please me ? "
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 237 
 
 Tamar nodded and slipped it on her finger without a 
 word. 
 
 " He was always wanting us to be married," Bram- 
 field went on. " He was always saying, ' Why don't 
 you make that wretched woman buck up ? ' 
 
 " Well, that wretched woman has bucked up," Tamar 
 said with a smile. 
 
 " Yes, and because of him," Bramfield answered. 
 " I'm glad it is because of him." 
 
 " No, it isn't altogether," she said. " A change came 
 over me when you abandoned me, Bramfield. And I 
 don't mind telling you that when I saw Rupert Thorn- 
 ton and his girl love-making over the counter in the 
 shop, a great yearning for you came over me. I re- 
 membered how often you had stood on that very spot 
 wooing me, and how often I had repulsed you. And I 
 said to myself : ' Those young people are having their 
 love scene, but I also could have had my love scene here 
 if I had chosen.' I was glad for their sakes and yet 
 jealous. I felt so old that night, so lonely. They 
 seemed so full of life and love and untouched by deso- 
 lation." 
 
 She paused a moment and then went on : 
 
 " In the old days which seem so far off and yet are, 
 as it were, only yesterday, when I had an attack of deso- 
 lation, all I had to do was to take out my best treasures 
 from the safe. That doesn't help me now in the same 
 way. It didn't that night." 
 
 " That's a big confession, my Tamar," he said. " It 
 gladdens and surprises me." 
 
 " It could not surprise you more than it surprises 
 me," she said, half dreamily. " I always thought I 
 should go on all my life caring more for precious stones
 
 238 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 than for anything else on earth. But something in me 
 has changed, or is changing. Some tense grip on me is 
 being loosened. I don't mean to say that it doesn't 
 tighten up again. It does. But it isn't stable as it 
 used to be. And sometimes I am afraid, uneasy, wor- 
 ried, too, at losing my bearings and parting with some 
 of my traditions. I see my mother sometimes in my 
 dreams, not always comforting as in the past, but men- 
 acing, disapproving, disappointed. You know, she her- 
 self cared so passionately for jewels, and instilled her 
 passion into me and left it there almost as a trust. 
 Any weakening of it seems a treachery to her memory, 
 which she has a right to resent." 
 
 " The dead have no right to stand in our path," 
 Bramfield said. " They have forged their way through. 
 We have to forge ours with the help that life affords. 
 If they cannot help us and they mostly can, Tamar 
 
 then at least they must not be allowed to hinder us. 
 But you are thinking of your mother as you knew her 
 here, in this very shop, in the same set of circumstances 
 
 angry, perhaps, if she had done a bad deal, impa- 
 tient if you had not set a proper value on a rare stone, 
 or if you had sold a perfect pearl which her heart 
 hungered to keep. But how would it be if you thought 
 of her in other terms, as one with a larger knowledge 
 of values and a truer, finer sense of proportion? Then 
 perhaps her face would never seem menacing in your 
 dreams of her, and her voice might be wafted to you, 
 saying : * Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon 
 earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where 
 thieves break through and steal : But lay up for your- 
 selves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust 
 doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 239 
 
 nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your 
 heart be also.' " 
 
 Tamar wept. It was Bramfield's turn to take her in 
 his arms and comfort her. 
 
 The first thing they did together was to send off a 
 parcel to that prisoner at Doberitz, and for this pur- 
 pose they went to one of the offices of the Prisoners of 
 War Relief Committee, and learnt what chances there 
 were of any packages or communications reaching him 
 from England. But Bramfield's principal hope was in 
 Gertrude Linton in Holland, who had always many ways 
 and means of overcoming obstacles. If it had not been 
 likely that she was soon coming to England, he would 
 have dashed over to Rotterdam then and there. He 
 did propose to Tamar that they should both go, but she 
 did not encourage this plan, not having acquired the 
 habit of doing anything at a moment's notice. But one 
 thing she did do quickly, and that was to possess herself 
 of the names of two prisoners belonging to Bruce's regi- 
 ment who had no friends to send them parcels. For 
 Bramfield's trouble about his son had brought back to 
 her remembrance that interview with the sad, anxious 
 mother who had come to her shop and shown her the 
 postcard signed ** Christopher Starving Page." Here 
 was her opportunity to step into a breach. 
 
 The grand personage seated at the table, who met her 
 inquiries with a metallic condescension, nearly put her 
 off. 
 
 " Wait till she comes to me to sell her earrings, and 
 then I'll let her have it," thought Tamar grimly. 
 
 Mercifully for the two prisoners, the competent sec- 
 retary who was the real worker behind the grand per-
 
 240 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 sonage who got the kudos, arrived on the scene in the 
 nick of time and saved the situation. Most assuredly 
 she must have had great experience in saving situations, 
 for she handled the matter with a deftness acquired only 
 by practice, poured oil, instilled enthusiasm, awakened 
 sympathy, and made Tamar feel that in looking after 
 the welfare of two prisoners of war, she was practically 
 looking after all the British prisoners of war in the 
 hands of the Germans. Tamar liked her as much as 
 she had hated the personage. 
 
 ** What's the use of a person of that description?" 
 she said to Bramfield afterwards. " I know the type 
 well. They come sniggering to me when they want 
 money. I always revenge myself by driving hard bar- 
 gains with them. What's she doing there? " 
 
 " Giving her name," he answered with a smile. 
 " That is where the value of people like herself comes in. 
 And it is a very real value. The public lives on names. 
 You'll see that when you come to the London Opera 
 House meeting this afternoon. You've promised to 
 come, haven't you? I have a reserved place for you on 
 the platform, at the back of the speakers, and you will 
 hear well." 
 
 " I'll come," she said. " I've never been to a public 
 meeting in my life, and I am sure I shall hate it. But 
 I'll come." 
 
 She added : 
 
 " I hope marriage doesn't necessarily mean going 
 often to public meetings ? " 
 
 "No, only very occasionally," he laughed. 
 
 She went home first, laden with various tins of provi- 
 sions, cigarettes and chocolates which she had bought 
 on her way. They made a brave showing on the kitchen
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 table, and reduced the old char to a state almost bor- 
 dering on imbecility from astonishment. 
 
 " Food for the prisoners of war ! " she cried. " Well, 
 I never ! It fair takes my breath away what happens 
 here now. Anything can happen now. Why, you'll be 
 getting married some day. That'll be the next thing." 
 
 " Why not ? " Tamar said with her soft laugh. 
 " People do get married sometimes, don't they? I seem 
 to have heard the report that they do." 
 
 An hour or two afterwards she started off for the 
 meeting at the London Opera House, which had been 
 organized on a large scale to raise money both for the 
 Belgian refugees and for cargoes of food to be sent to 
 the Belgians in Belgium. Bramfield was one of those 
 who had been working up the meeting and Tamar had 
 promised to attend it because she wished sincerely to 
 take part in his life and show him that she was inter- 
 ested in what he was doing. As ever, she was struck by 
 his forgetfulness of self. His personal trouble about 
 his boy, his personal joy in having won her, seemed but 
 to stimulate him to work more strenuously on behalf of 
 others. 
 
 " With you, my Tamar, as ally," he had said, " every- 
 thing becomes possible to me." 
 
 " I shall never be able to live up to that standard of 
 perfection," she had answered, with her quaint frank- 
 ness which always amused and touched him. Tamar, at 
 least, would never pose could never pose. 
 
 She arrived at the London Opera House to see a row 
 of photographers awaiting the advent of Personages on 
 whose names the public and the Press lived. She showed 
 her ticket, followed the route indicated, and was shown 
 to her place on the platform, where already many dis-
 
 242 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 tinguished and influential people had assembled. Very 
 much did she hate being there, and she was greatly 
 wishing that she was safely back in her inner room, 
 when Bramfield caught sight of her and came to greet 
 her. 
 
 " I'm hating it before it has begun," she said. 
 
 " Well, you can't be feeling very cross, because you 
 are still looking very beautiful," he whispered. 
 
 She learnt that she was amongst High Commissioners, 
 Ambassadors, Dignitaries of the Church, Members of 
 Parliament, Cabinet Ministers, and men and women of 
 importance in social and political life. She studied the 
 names of the speakers, was entirely unimpressed by the 
 list, and only thought it a pity that Bramfield was not 
 going to address the meeting Bramfield, who knew so 
 much about the misery and needs of the Belgians. 
 Well, perhaps these other speakers knew too, otherwise 
 they would surely not have been invited to speak. 
 
 Tamar's childlike belief was soon dispelled. From 
 the very beginning of the proceedings, she discovered to 
 her amazement and disappointment that the Personages 
 knew little or nothing of the cause they had been asked 
 to advocate and support. They knew in theory, of 
 course. But of the actual misery of the Belgian refu- 
 gees and of the wonderful machinery set up by the 
 American Commission to stem the tide of starvation 
 amongst seven million inhabitants in Belgium, they evi- 
 dently knew nothing. There was a good deal of high- 
 sounding language, and there were streams of fine elo- 
 quence and noble sentiments; and as each orator fol- 
 lowed the other, gracious tributes were paid to each 
 predecessor for his address, which was said to have 
 moved the hearts of all present by its convincing sin-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 cerity and its comprehensive grasp. Tamar, unim- 
 pressed by names, and free from the awe of personality, 
 thought all these speakers exceedingly prosy, and even 
 comic. She longed to know, as she looked round, 
 whether the audience were really being impressed or 
 only pretending to be impressed. She thought prob- 
 ably only pretending because of the names. But 
 wouldn't it even be better business as well as common 
 sense to reach them really by the real thing? Wouldn't 
 their purses come out more heavily laden and with 
 greater alacrity, if some one rose up to draw a picture 
 for them, for instance, of the Cargoes of Mercy? 
 
 Why wasn't Bramfield speaking? It was ridiculous 
 that he was not speaking. Or why hadn't they made 
 Gertrude Linton come over? She would have vitalized 
 the meeting at once and exhilarated every one, including 
 the Dignitaries of the Church. She would have con- 
 jured up for them the harrowing scene of the avalanche 
 of panic-stricken refugees pouring over the Dutch fron- 
 tier. She would have presented to them a vision of the 
 Relief Ship they had seen, with its tons of rice and salt 
 and corn and that condensed milk ardently longed for 
 so that the lives of the starving little ones might be 
 saved. She would have waved a wand and lo ! the of- 
 ficial messenger between Rotterdam and Brussels would 
 have dashed on the platform, with his passport framed 
 and hanging round his neck ready for all arrests and 
 all contingencies. Another wave of the wand, and her 
 friend the Captain would have been there imploring for 
 a convoy against the perils presented by the English 
 lady from Groningen, and pretending to ignore congrat- 
 ulations on having run his vessel through the mine-fields 
 in the dark and taken the sporting risk of disaster be-
 
 244 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 cause of the crying need for bread and salt. Bread and 
 salt words burnt into the brain for evermore. 
 Wouldn't some one get up and call them aloud? 
 Wasn't there any one who was going to read some of 
 the appeals for help from the burgomasters or priests 
 of the villages and communes? No appeals could be 
 more touching in their simplicity and directness, and 
 far more powerful as an influence than all the vague 
 rhetoric of these distinguished but boring Personages 
 with names. 
 
 Some of the sentences echoed back to her: 
 
 " In the name of humanity help us." 
 
 " The communal funds are finished, and if you come 
 not to help us, God knows what will become of us." 
 
 " Everything is missing. We are in want of pota- 
 toes, peas, beans, grain, flour, meat, bacon, clothes, 
 wooden shoes, petroleum." 
 
 " Our communes are without resources. We have 
 finished our short report. We have not dramatized it." 
 
 " Alas ! the children born during this war, of mothers 
 enfeebled by worries and privations, are very delicate." 
 
 What a thousand pities that there was no one to 
 speak these words aloud, no one to tell the audience of 
 the amazingly clever machinery of the American Relief 
 Commission, and of the enthusiasm and disinterestedness 
 of all the people she had seen working to help the Bel- 
 gians under the heel of the Germans in Belgium and the 
 refugees in Holland no one to show them even a 
 glimpse of the concentration camps, the granaries, the 
 railway sheds, the barge packed with homeless, hounded 
 men, women and children no one to tell them the 
 story of Marie Louise, and show them the dark hold, 
 and in the dim light of the lamp a young girl moaning
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 245 
 
 and rocking herself to and fro lost, unknown, un- 
 claimed ... 
 
 Why, she herself could tell them she, Tamar, who 
 had never made a speech in her life. She could tell them 
 how it had all affected her, and how the scenes and the 
 sufferings she had witnessed and the tales she had heard 
 had burnt themselves into her brain for evermore. And 
 why shouldn't she tell them? Why not? Why 
 shouldn't she stand up and stop that dull Personage 
 and tell them a few real things instead? 
 
 Almost she rose to her feet. Never before had she 
 felt so impersonal, so disinterested, so concerned for 
 large issues. When such a crisis comes to any one, all 
 barriers are broken down and all impossibilities sur- 
 mounted and all consequences ignored. Another min- 
 ute and Tamar would have spoken, improbable 
 though it seems. Another minute and she would 
 have disgraced herself and Bramfield, and outraged the 
 assembly by an outburst of sincerity and truthfulness 
 and by a protest against the dull, disheartening, devi- 
 talizing methods of a representative platform of Names- 
 Highly-Placed-in-all-Walks-of-Prosperous-Life. 
 
 What prevented her, what restrained her? It was 
 Bramfield himself, who had slipped in to sit next to her. 
 By the merest chance and providentially for him 
 her eyes met his. He was looking at her proudly, 
 kindly, evidently delighted to have her there and to be 
 able to send her a silent message of greeting. His 
 words were wafted to her : 
 
 "With you as ally, my Tamar, everything will be 
 possible to me." 
 
 Ah, she must not fail Bramfield Bramfield, who 
 loved and trusted her, and who had asked her to come to
 
 246 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 the meeting to hearten and support him, not to discon- 
 cert him. She would tell him what she thought about it 
 afterwards. She wouldn't spare him. But she must 
 not embarrass him now no certainly not why, 
 she had been mad she, Tamar, to think of such a 
 thing entirely mad the harrowing scenes brought 
 back to her remembrance had got into her brain that 
 is how it was just that. . . . 
 
 So the moment of danger passed, known to no one 
 save herself. The Personage droned on. Others suc- 
 ceeded him with addresses from which all real stirring 
 details and all human touches were absent. The meet- 
 ing came to a conclusion in an avalanche of compliments 
 to all the speakers. It was pronounced by the news 
 papers to have been brilliantly successful, stimulating, 
 and profoundly moving, the agony of Belgium having 
 been described by the galaxy of Names in words which 
 wrung the heart. 
 
 When Tamar read the reports, she marvelled, as 
 many others marvel when they read reports.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 IT was about eleven o'clock one night at the end of 
 September when a ring came at Tamar's shop door, 
 a long and persistent ring. She had not yet gone to 
 bed, for she was trying to make up her mind which of 
 her stones she would part with next. She had already 
 parted with several, secretly and after great mental 
 agony not her choicest treasures, it is true, but 
 some she prized very highly. They were of consider- 
 able value and had brought in large sums, which she had 
 dispatched anonymously to the Red Cross and to other 
 organizations which were appealing for funds. 
 
 She had the idea now firmly implanted in her mind 
 that she must no longer hoard for her secret pleasure 
 so many lovely things. Her talk with Bramfield about 
 her mother had to a certain extent set her free to pur- 
 sue her own course unimpeded by the past. 
 
 Sacrifice seemed to be the order of the day. Scarcely 
 an afternoon passed without some one coming in to sell 
 jewels, or old silver, or some antique greatly prized. 
 From long years of keen observation, Tamar knew at 
 once when a real sacrifice was being made for an unselfish 
 object. She knew those signs as well as she knew when 
 some society woman, head over heels in debt, dashed in 
 to raise ready money on her jewels, and avert disgrace 
 and exposure. Human nature, she believed, had been 
 to her an easy book to read; but the pages she was 
 turning over now, chronicled with records of unselfish- 
 ness, patriotism, public-spiritedness and impersonal 
 
 247
 
 248 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 concern, had puzzled her not a little at first, because 
 they were not isolated passages, such as she might have 
 picked out easily before as exceptional incidents, but a 
 whole continuous story in the same vein. At the begin- 
 ning she had put up an obfetinatc, logged, almost angry 
 resistance to this avalanche of influences emanating even 
 from her own business dealings. But it had broken 
 down. Old silver, old snuff-boxes, etuis, bonbonnieres, 
 enamels, china, hideous and cherished old family jewels, 
 old gold, antiques of every kind and old people, trem- 
 bling and eager, stormed the shop in Dean Street, and 
 told her plainly enough that she, too, must make sac- 
 rifices. 
 
 Finally she accepted the misfortuHe as part of the 
 general " churn up," and was succumbing to it tonight, 
 though not without her usual attack of misery over the 
 tragedy of parting with yet another passionately loved 
 possession. Her hesitation between a very beautiful 
 turquoise and a second-rate but interesting sapphire 
 was cut short by the sound of the bell. When she 
 opened the door, she found Gertrude Linton with a small 
 suit-case and a bundle, and a young woman who was 
 carrying a baby. 
 
 " T. Scott," Miss Linton said, " you promised you'd 
 take any one in I brought suddenly. Is it all right ? " 
 
 " Come in," Tamar said, her face lighting up with a 
 smile of welcome, and all her misery of renunciation for- 
 gotten. " I'm so glad you've come. I don't mind whom 
 you bring, as long as you come yourself." 
 
 " Ah, it's nice to hear you say that," Miss Linton 
 said. " But I knew you would not fail. We've had 
 such a bad crossing from Flushing, and only narrowly 
 escaped being torpedoed. But here we are, safe and
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 249 
 
 sound. Now, T. Scott, we must just get this poor thing 
 to bed. You must trot out your French and say some- 
 thing to cheer her. Don't be frightened of the baby. 
 The baby won't eat you. Why, do you know, I nearly 
 brought two or three others with me. So you're really 
 lucky to have only one foisted on you ! Tell Madame 
 Guerin she has a very beautiful child. That will put 
 her at her ease." 
 
 Tamar, who did not know one baby from another, 
 murmured something about un ires joli petit enfant. 
 
 The result was successful, for young Madame Guerin 
 brightened up at once, and let forth a volley of language 
 in admiration of the baby and in gratitude to Miss Lin- 
 ton for bringing her and Tamar for receiving her. 
 
 " It's all she has got," Gertrude Linton explained. 
 " She is from Aerschot. Her husband has been killed 
 at the front, also her two brothers, and her little 
 brother of sixteen shot before her eyes for trying to 
 rescue his young sister from the German soldiers. I 
 wonder she has remained in her right senses. I sup- 
 pose the baby helped her. She has been waiting for 
 some weeks in the Friends' hostel at Flushing until she 
 heard from an aunt she has at Tulse Hill. I'll get her 
 there tomorrow, so we won't be upsetting you for long." 
 
 " She must stay till you have made all the arrange- 
 ments properly," Tamar said. 
 
 " I knew you would not fail me," Miss Linton re- 
 peated, with a sigh of content. " When this poor thing 
 came into my hands, I marked her down for you. I 
 said : ' T. Scott's bedroom for her and the baby, my 
 Jacobean couch for me, where I was very comfortable 
 on a previous occasion, thank you, and any old where 
 for T.Scott herself!'"
 
 250 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Tamar laughed. She was very happy that Gertrude 
 Linton had believed she would not fail her. 
 
 The young mother and her babe were put to bed 
 warm and snug in Tamar's room. Madame Guerin 
 kept on murmuring, with tears rolling down her cheeks : 
 
 " I have my little one safe I have my little one 
 safe." 
 
 It was her one thought, and, as Gertrude Linton said, 
 it kept at bay, mercifully, for a time, the remembrance 
 of her losses and of the tragedies she had been through. 
 
 As they left her and went downstairs, Miss Linton 
 said: 
 
 " Do you remember the other little babe we saw to- 
 gether when we were on one of our quests for Marie 
 Louise? " 
 
 ** Yes," Tamar answered. " I shall never forget the 
 face of that little one, calm with the dignity and mys- 
 tery of death." 
 
 " And what of Marie Louise ? " asked Gertrude Lin- 
 ton. " Do you ever see her? " 
 
 " No," Tamar said, shaking her head. " They 
 judged it best that she should not see any one connected 
 with that tragic time in her life. And perhaps they 
 were right. But I do not forget Marie Louise. She 
 became very dear to me. It was a wrench to part from 
 her." 
 
 She added : 
 
 " They say she has recovered, and that her eyes are 
 bright once more, and that her laughter rings through 
 the house. It does not seem possible, does it ? " 
 
 " Greater miracles have happened than that," said 
 Gertrude Linton gently; and perhaps she may have 
 thought of the miracle which appeared to have taken
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 251 
 
 place in the case of this dealer in antique jewellery and 
 precious stones. 
 
 For long hours they talked over the fire in the inner 
 room. Miss Linton was deeply concerned over the news 
 that Bramfield's boy was a prisoner in Germany. She 
 said that the country was not half realizing the tragedy 
 of the fate of the prisoners. Rumours were coming 
 through to Holland that they were bemg starved and 
 ill-treated and insulted, and apparently with no one to 
 intervene on their behalf. She had heard reports direct 
 from some of the American Relief Commission people 
 who were able to enter Germany. And she herself had 
 seen and spoken to two escaped soldiers who had, after 
 innumerable hardships, made their way over the fron- 
 tier at Maestricht. 
 
 " Never shall I forget the look on their faces," she 
 said, " nor their joy in talking to a countrywoman and 
 in knowing that they were in friendly hands and would 
 not be betrayed. I could weep over the prisoners all 
 of them soldiers and civilians alike. The thought 
 of them stirs me more than anything. There is noth- 
 ing I would not do or be to help them if I could. The 
 plight of the civilians is bad enough. You know I've 
 been put on the Committee of Reception at the frontier 
 to look after them when they are exchanged and, T. 
 Scott, the sights I've seen I could weep." 
 
 She was so greatly overcome by emotion that she did 
 weep. 
 
 " We over there, who see the sights, feel that we can 
 never rest nor give any one any rest until something 
 is arranged about them," she said. " There ought to 
 be a storm party keeping up a continuous attack on our 
 comfortable officials in their comfortable offices here
 
 252 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 until every soldier and every civilian has been ex- 
 changed." 
 
 She broke off to dry her tears, and then went on : 
 
 " The people in England must be made to under- 
 stand ; but it will takes ages before they wake up. And 
 meantime the suffering increases the unnecessary suf- 
 fering. I can't get a poor old civilian from Ruhleben 
 out of my mind. He was about seventy years old, or 
 nearly, and poor old fellow he had gone queer in the 
 head, like Marie Louise, you know. He told me sol- 
 emnly that he was going to divorce his wife when he got 
 back to England. And I believe the truth was, that 
 they were most devoted to each other and had lived in 
 the same house in the same suburb for about thirty 
 years." 
 
 She smiled in spite of herself. 
 
 " I call that a feat, don't you? " she said. " It's 
 more than I could do." 
 
 And then she added : 
 
 " Poor old man poor old fellow I was more up- 
 set about him than any one I've seen, because he was 
 old and the old cannot bear these shocks they sim- 
 ply cannot and it is cruel they should have to. Why 
 are you staring at me, T. Scott? You think I'm an 
 awful fool, don't you ? " 
 
 " I was thinking," Tamar said dreamily, " that if I 
 lived to be a thousand years old in the same house, in 
 the same street, in the same suburb, I could never be as 
 disinterested as you. I suppose it is born in one and 
 cannot be acquired." 
 
 " Still a bee in your bonnet about disinterestedness," 
 Gertrude Linton laughed.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 253 
 
 " Yes," Tamar answered, " if you like to put it that 
 way." 
 
 " And what about those generous cheques you've been 
 sending to Holland? " Gertrude Linton asked. " You 
 have not any idea how pleased we have all been the 
 Commission for Relief, and the Friends, and the Dutch 
 Committee, and the English lady at Groningen, to say 
 nothing of myself. I wish you could see some of the 
 people we have clothed with your money." 
 
 " It has only been money," Tamar said slowly. 
 
 " Only money ? " Miss Linton repeated. " Well, I 
 don't mind having as much more ' only money ' as you 
 choose to send." 
 
 " It isn't enough," Tamar said sulkily. " One has to 
 part with one's treasures. I find that very difficult. 
 But those words you said about my precious stones, 
 which I tried to hide from you that night you were here, 
 haunted me. I tried to forget them, but could not." 
 
 " Oh, but they were only said in fun, in my irrespon- 
 sible way which no one ought to take any notice of," 
 Gertrude Linton insisted. 
 
 " Before you came tonight," Tamar continued, " I 
 was trying to make up my mind to part with a favourite 
 turquoise. It will be far easier now you are here." 
 
 " Let me see it," Gertrude Linton said. She was 
 greatly touched by Tamar's attitude to her. 
 
 Tamar laid it almost reverently in the palm of Ger- 
 trude Linton's hand. 
 
 " It is Persian," she said softly. " From the Abdur- 
 rezzagi mines in Mishapur province." 
 
 This was double Dutch to her friend, but she was evi- 
 dently expected to feel impressed by the information,
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 and consequently she did look both impressed and awe- 
 stricken. Her sympathetic nature which never failed 
 at a crisis, enabled her to know that T. Scott was really 
 suffering, and that the sacrifice she was proposing to 
 make, meant a great deal to her. She learnt that this 
 was by no means the first treasure to be sacrificed. 
 Little by little she wormed it out of Tamar that many 
 favourite possessions had been sold and the money sent 
 anonymously to several destinations. 
 
 " But often grudgingly, very grudgingly," poor 
 Tamar confessed. 
 
 And no one knew, no one was to know. Tamar was 
 very emphatic about that. No, she had not told Bram- 
 field. Bramfield was not to know, though he had made 
 it easier for her by something he had said. One day 
 she would tell him, perhaps, but she wanted to wait until 
 she could say truthfully that what she was doing was 
 done with joy and not with a struggle. 
 
 " And probably that will never be," she said, with a 
 pathetic little smile which went straight to Gertrude 
 Linton's heart. " Now, you would simply throw them 
 round. I can't help envying you." 
 
 " But then you see, I don't care," her friend ex- 
 plained. " I'm built that way. You are not. All the 
 more credit to you if you can give up some of your 
 precious stones. I think it is ripping of you, T. Scott. 
 No, I won't betray you, especially if you shut my mouth 
 with one or two for the prisoners and refugees ! With- 
 out a bribe, I cannot answer for my silence." 
 
 Tamar laughed her soft laugh. 
 
 " You shall have the turquoise," she said, " and this 
 sapphire which will go next if I can screw myself 
 up to part with it."
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 255 
 
 " The turquoise for the Belgians," Miss Linton said, 
 " and the sapphire for the prisoners. I hope its hour 
 will come soon; I think it will, somehow. You don't 
 look like any of the comfortable officials in their com- 
 fortable offices, making delays which neither they nor we 
 understand." 
 
 " Its hour has come now," Tamar said, turning away. 
 " The prisoners can have it now. But you mustn't stop 
 here for long. You would end by getting everything 
 out of me." 
 
 " You are a trump," Gertrude Linton said, her face 
 radiant with pleasure. And she clutched Tamar by th< 
 arm and swung her round. 
 
 " Do you know you are looking very beautiful ? " she 
 said. " And years younger." 
 
 " So Bramfield tells me," Tamar laughed, blushing. 
 
 "Ah, that's it, is it?" said Gertrude Linton, guess- 
 ing the truth. " I am glad he has that solace in his 
 anxiety." 
 
 Whilst Gertrude Linton slept on the Jacobean couch, 
 forgetful of Belgian widows and babies and English 
 prisoners of war and all their sufferings, Tamar pon- 
 dered afresh over that wonderful quality, disinterested- 
 ness, which was as much a revelation to her as a sunrise 
 to eyes who have never seen one haunting, full of 
 strange surprises, loveliness after loveliness unfolding 
 itself and fading away, as if of no moment, with no 
 trace left of its radiant share in the glory, and yet part 
 of the glory, the whole glory. 
 
 " If I'm not careful, that woman will get my best ruby 
 out of me. She's dangerous, because disinterested," 
 Tamar thought, before she too went to sleep.
 
 256 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 In the morning the old char found the remains of a 
 good supper on the kitchen table, and an empty bottle 
 of Tamar's best wine. In the inner room she discov- 
 ered Tamar asleep in the easy chair, and a woman with 
 her hair tumbling over her rolled up in a rug on the 
 Jacobean couch. From upstairs came the sound of a 
 baby crying and a foreigner's voice singing to it in some 
 strange gibberish. 
 
 " Well," she said, " these be queer times, and no mis- 
 take. Milk for the cat a fire in the kitchen peo- 
 ple coming and going food for every one love- 
 making over the counter parcels for prisoners and 
 a baby screaming upstairs. It fair takes my breath 
 away." 
 
 It fair took Tamar's breath away when she awoke to 
 the unwonted screaming. She had to remind herself 
 that it was only part of the churn up.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 BUT for all her screaming, the little Belgian baby 
 was not hustled off the following day. She was 
 settled snugly and warmly in a beautiful old oaken box 
 in the inner room, and was visited at frequent intervals 
 by every one, including the old char, whose one and 
 only remark was : 
 
 " Well, I never = no, I never ! " 
 
 Gertrude Linton had gone off to Tulse Hill to make 
 inquiries about Madame Guerin's aunt. She left word 
 with Tamar that if Bramfield called during her absence, 
 he was to be asked to look in again that evening and 
 bring with him the last details he had received concern- 
 ing Bruce. She thought that his friend, the American 
 military attache at The Hague, might be able to make 
 inquiries about the boy, and that news of him would 
 come through quicker in this way than by the usual 
 machinery of intelligence. Or, better still, why should 
 not Bramfield come to Holland and ask the attache 
 himself? He had been long overdue at the Commission, 
 where they wanted his advice. And if he came, would 
 not Tamar come also and see the many changes which 
 the Dutch had effected in their arrangements for their 
 refugee guests? 
 
 " And I would like you to see the reconstruction work 
 of the Friends at the concentration camps," she said, 
 " especially at Uden, where I em stationed. The 
 women's work-room, too, where they make wool carpets 
 and rugs, under our supervision. Our friend, the Com- 
 
 257
 
 258 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 mandant kept his word and sent for us. So the wool 
 came in useful." 
 
 What about the shop? Oh, Bramfield could put 
 some one in to look after it. He had done this before, 
 hadn't he? Yes, Tamar said he had, and she supposed 
 he could easily arrange again. But she was not sure 
 she wanted to go. It was not her habit to upset her 
 everyday life in this sudden fashion. Gertrude Linton 
 thought that quite absurd. It was a good thing for 
 people's everyday life to be deranged and the even 
 tenor of their ways disturbed, provided, of course, that 
 they were not old. 
 
 " It is always the old people that tear at my heart," 
 she said. " I shall not easily forget the day when the 
 Friends put up the first cottage at the concentration 
 camp at Uden, and an aged Belgian woman and her two 
 grandchildren entered into possession of it. She wept 
 with joy to have a little home of her own again, a pri- 
 vate, personal, separate haven of her own. Poor old 
 lady she had indeed had her habits upset. Now, T. 
 Scott, listen to me. It isn't every one that has the 
 chance of going to Holland. The Government makes 
 it more difficult every week. But you could get through 
 as my assistant, and you could help me with the girls' 
 work-room. Now, don't be ' stuffy,' but just turn it 
 over in your mind whilst I go off to Tulse Hill. The 
 more I think of it, the more I want you to come back 
 with me. And take care of the baby. And give the 
 mother some stitching to do. And if she weeps, admire 
 the baby and call it ' chou-chou.' Now I'm off." 
 
 Tamar rose to the occasion, and when Madame 
 Guerin showed signs of beginning to weep, she admired
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 259 
 
 the baby and called it " chou-chou," and various other 
 names which she looked out laboriously in the diction- 
 ary. But it was a relief when Bramfield arrived and 
 carried on an animated conversation with Madame 
 Guerin, which restored her spirits more effectually than 
 any of Tamar's awkward attempts. She could not but 
 love him afresh, in her own queer way. His kindness 
 and gentleness and unselfishness always touched her and 
 filled her with admiration. In a moment he was able to 
 put aside his own troubles and anxieties in order to 
 comfort and encourage this poor young widow, the 
 tragedy of whose tale roused all his sympathy and indig- 
 nation. 
 
 " Tamar," he cried, " don't you see we can never do 
 enough for these people? But for them, the Germans 
 would have been here, and Madame Guerin's story, the 
 story of thousands in Belgium, could have been the 
 story of any woman in England. When I think of all 
 the awful things I've heard of their barbarous doings, 
 I don't know how to contain myself. I know I would 
 give my soul to be a young man and in the fighting 
 line. I never in my life envied any one except Bruce 
 when he went to the front. And I envy him now, poor 
 lad, whatever his fate, because it is for his country's 
 sake that he has got his wounds and lost his liberty." 
 
 Tom Thornton, who had been at an aerodrome all 
 this time, came whilst Bramfield was there. He was 
 wearing the double wings of a flying officer, and was 
 very pleased with himself, though just as boyishly light- 
 hearted as ever. 
 
 " Yes," he said, in answer to their congratulations, 
 " I'm the real thing now. And I expect to be posted to
 
 260 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 the Expeditionary Force in a week or two, and with a 
 new squadron going out for the first time. A piece of 
 luck that, as I shall have my pals with me. So now I'm 
 going to have my chance of helping to strafe the Boche. 
 I'm so excited I don't know how to keep quiet. I don't 
 try." 
 
 Bramfield put his hand on the lad's shoulder. 
 
 " I envy you," he said, with great emotion. " It's 
 simply maddening not to be young at this time." 
 
 " It's jolly good being young, sir," Tom said, smil- 
 ing and thinking old Bramfield was a funny old cuss. 
 
 Bramfield turned to Tamar and said : 
 
 " You ought to find one of your mascots for him. 
 You have some interesting ones somewhere." 
 
 " She gave me one long ago," Tom said. " Miss 
 Scott and I are special friends, you know have been, 
 ever since she came to Marton Grange and told us the 
 precious stones were worth pots of money. Good piece 
 of news that, sir. Good tuning up fqr the stunt of 
 friendly understanding." 
 
 He fumbled at his neck and drew out a ribbon with 
 Tamar's queer old talisman attached to it. Bramfield 
 looked at it and nodded. 
 
 *' That ought to keep you safe," he said. " Ruby 
 and turquoise." 
 
 And Tamar, as if again impelled by some mystic 
 power, closed her eyes and swayed to and fro. 
 
 " From all dangers of earth, sea and air, from all 
 dangers of earth, sea and air, from all dangers of earth, 
 sea and air," she murmured. 
 
 Tom himself broke the spell. 
 
 " Well," he said, " if that doesn't keep me safe, noth-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 261 
 
 ing will. But it will. I shall be all right. Of course 
 I think it my duty to cheer up the Mater at intervals 
 by saying I won't. And that reminds me, she wants 
 you to come tonight. Will you? I'll hop round and 
 fetch you." 
 
 " No, I can't come tonight," Tamar said. " I have 
 Miss Linton from Holland staying here. She came last 
 evening with a Belgian refugee and a baby." 
 
 She laughed as she spoke. It struck her as being 
 funny that domestic responsibilities should keep her at 
 home. 
 
 " I know," Tom said, " suppose we all come here 
 every one of us, including the Mater. She'd come any 
 old distance to see a baby brave any dangers of 
 earth, sea and air, gas, poisoned bombs and all other 
 amenities of this civilized war. Could you do with the 
 whole lot some of the tribe you saw last time you 
 came to us? Big order, but rather fun. About nine 
 or ten of us all the Thorntons, two of the fellows you 
 saw before, and one or two of the girls' friends." 
 
 "Why not?" Tamar said, a little taken aback, but 
 pleased with the idea. 
 
 " Cheerioh," he said. " I'm off to tell them." 
 
 " Bramfield," Tamar said, with sudden panic after 
 Tom had dashed away. " I've never had a party. 
 You'll be here for certain, won't you? Miss Linton is 
 expecting to see you." 
 
 " Of course," he answered, smiling. " It's my home 
 now, in a sort of way, isn't it? Always has been the 
 home of my spirit for years and years." 
 
 " If we married, you'd not expect me to leave this 
 place? " she asked dreamily. 
 
 " I could not think of you in any other home except
 
 262 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Dean Street, nor in any other den except the inner 
 room," he answered. 
 
 She nodded. She seemed relieved. 
 
 " I've had a panic about that," she said. 
 
 " You need not," he said. " I simply couldn't think 
 of you in any other setting. You'd be like a precious 
 stone mounted wrong. Don't have a panic about that. 
 Don't have a panic about anything. I'm going to tell 
 you something." 
 
 " What's that ? " she asked, a little uneasily. 
 
 " You must be free, my Tamar," he said, star- 
 ing fixedly at the floor. " I believe you feel chained 
 up." 
 
 " Yes, a bit," she said, also staring at the floor. 
 
 " You regret the embraces we've exchanged ? " he said. 
 
 " No, no," she said, turning to him quickly. " No, 
 no." 
 
 " You dread marriage don't want it? " he asked. 
 
 " I don't want marriage yet, Bramfield," she said. 
 " I dread giving up my liberty I've always been 
 free I cannot pretend I should like it I shouldn't 
 at least sometimes very often, I think I shouldn't." 
 
 " Then let's go back to where we were before," he 
 said very kindly. " I've been a fool. I might have 
 known you could not be happy that way. I have 
 known." 
 
 " We cannot go back to where we were before, be- 
 cause I know that I cannot think of life without you, 
 Bramfield," she said. " Before, I could. But I can- 
 not now." 
 
 " You can't do without poor old Bramfield," he said, 
 " and yet cannot make a sacrifice to have him. That's 
 how it stands, isn't it ? "
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 263 
 
 " Well, it sounds hateful enough," she answered, with 
 an uneasy smile. " But I suppose it's true." 
 
 " I also cannot do without you," he said. " And if 
 we married, I might find I hadn't got you, after all. 
 That would be worse than anything. So that if you 
 had made the sacrifice, you might have made it in vain. 
 No use, then, in making it or accepting it. Whereas 
 now, you feel you belong to me and I belong to you, 
 even though there is no union by marriage or without 
 marriage. Is that so?" 
 
 " Yes," she said. 
 
 " You can't face the loneliness, and I can't face the 
 loneliness, and we've got to do the best we can with our 
 respective natures," he said. "That's so, isn't it? 
 Well, don't let us try to solve the problem just now. 
 Perhaps it will solve itself. Perhaps some day you will 
 be coming to me and saying: 'I don't mind getting 
 married to you, Bramfield.' And I shall answer: 
 * Much obliged to you, Tamar. I've been waiting for 
 a long time, and am quite ready.' Meanwhile you'll 
 wear the ring, won't you, as a sign that you cannot do 
 without me? " 
 
 She did not speak a word, but put one hand over the 
 ring, as if to press it into her fingers. 
 
 And then she said: 
 
 " I wonder why it is that you have always loved me, 
 Bramfield?" 
 
 " I couldn't tell you," he said. " But I always have, 
 from the moment I entered your shop and received 
 my first bit of rudeness from you." 
 
 " Yes, I remember," she said. " It was over a dia- 
 mond. I've never cared for diamonds in the same way 
 that I have cared for rubies and the other stones.
 
 264 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 You said it was a want in me. That made me angry." 
 
 " And you were angry," he said, smiling. " Well, 
 I still maintain it is a want. Are you going to be rude 
 again ? " 
 
 " No," she answered. " I don't suppose I shall ever 
 be rude to you again, after that miserable episode of 
 the reconstructed emerald. I should be too frightened 
 of losing you." 
 
 " You'll never lose me, my Tamar," he said. 
 " Whatever you do, or whatever you don't do now, 
 you'll never lose me." 
 
 She still kept her hand over the ring, pressing it in 
 with fingers that trembled a little. 
 
 " I don't believe there is any one else on earth as 
 fine and generous as you are," she said. 
 
 " Nonsense," he said, " there is nothing fine and gen- 
 erous in making the best of circumstances when one 
 knows one cannot face the loneliness of spirit which 
 would ensue if one didn't. That's the way to look at 
 it. Don't let us burden ourselves with the problem. 
 It will settle itself. Things do settle themselves, as 
 letters answer themselves if we leave them alone." 
 
 He had gone over to the fireplace and was leaning his 
 arm against the mantelshelf. Tamar went to him. 
 
 " It is so exactly like me to disappoint you at the 
 time when you are so troubled about Bruce," she said. 
 
 " You have not disappointed me, dear Tamar," he 
 said. " If you had told me you could do without me, 
 then I could not have raised my head. But I can 
 raise it now high. I have the right to. Tamar 
 cannot do without me." 
 
 He took both her hands, brought them together and 
 kissed them and let them go.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 265 
 
 " And now," he said, gathering himself together, 
 " I'm off, saying ' cheerioh,' like your friend Tom. I'll 
 be here in good time this evening, and will bring some 
 Green Chartreuse with me. And you must provide 
 some of your golden Tokay. Don't be mean about it, 
 Tamar two bottles at least. A fine idea to have a 
 party. It will cheer us up and do all these people good 
 to meet Gertrude Linton and hear a few things from 
 her. Good for them to talk with the Belgian woman, 
 and see a glimpse of the suffering and wrongs going on 
 wherever the Germans have their grip. We don't 
 know half enough here. That is why we are so placid. 
 Don't be anxious about your party. It will be a great 
 success." 
 
 And it was. Mrs. Thornton, having adored the Bel- 
 gian baby and wept over it to her heart's content, set- 
 tled down comfortably in the inner room, and brought 
 out her knitting, without which she was never seen. 
 She was amused and perhaps a little concerned to see 
 how her family and their friends made themselves at 
 home in Tamar's shop, and how Tom and Marion dashed 
 around and brought her various things to admire, as 
 though they had a proprietary right in them. But 
 Tamar did not seem to think that any one was taking 
 liberties, and it was evident that she was very happy 
 amongst her guests. At their request she opened her 
 safe and showed them some of her treasures and laid 
 herself out to give them pleasure. Tom, who was in 
 fine form, translated into primitive French some of her 
 remarks and explanations. Madame Guerin, caught 
 by his fun and gaiety, laughed and said: 
 
 " Tres bien, Monsieur, tres bien. Je comprends."
 
 266 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 It was decided that she must indeed be a genius to 
 understand a single word that he uttered. He also took 
 it upon himself to hold forth on one or two jewels, much 
 to Tamar's amusement. 
 
 " This, ladies and gentlemen, is a valuable ruby from 
 Golconda or Gomorrah, I forget which. After various 
 vicissitudes incidental to precious stones, which, as you 
 know, pass through many hardships in the process of 
 their formation and many adventures in their course 
 of existence, it came into the possession of Charles the 
 First, and a day or two after his decapitation was 
 bought by Miss Scott, of Dean Street, Soho, for the 
 trifling sum of three thousand pounds. Date's a little 
 wrong, but no matter. Time is nothing. Please note 
 its wonderful lustre. I tell you, ladies and gentlemen, 
 there's nothing I don't know about precious stones, from 
 a pebble to a pearl. Blindfolded, I can tell the differ- 
 ence between a fragment of a broken soda-water bottle 
 and an emerald of the finest water. You cannot there- 
 fore dispute my right to be considered as an expert 
 of the first rank far superior to my brother Rupert, 
 who has merely acquired his well-known reputation by 
 swotting up books of reference and notably a stu- 
 pendous work on the subject by my honoured friend, 
 Miss Scott of Dean Street." 
 
 Tamar's brain fairly reeled with the information he 
 gave her about aerodrome life, machines and flying. 
 He explained nose dives, sideslips, falling leaf, looping 
 the loop and many other " stunts," at a rate calculated 
 to annihilate all powers of lay understanding. At the 
 same speed he commented on all the different charac- 
 teristics of all the aeroplanes up to date, German and 
 French, as well as British. When he had done, it was
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 267 
 
 more than doubtful whether she would have known a 
 captive balloon from a twin-engined Gotha biplane, a 
 Zeppelin from a single-seated scout. 
 
 Gertrude Linton arrived a little late. Bramfield 
 went to open the door for her, and when she heard there 
 was a party on, she sat down in the shop and had a talk 
 with him about Bruce. She told him that she had heard 
 there was a chance of the German Government allowing 
 an American Mission of medical men to visit some of 
 the prisoners' camps, and report on them. How would 
 it be if he came to Holland at once and saw his friend 
 the American military attache at The Hague? If the 
 scheme came off, he might be able to get Bruce's camp 
 included in the inspection, and in this way Bramfield 
 might perhaps get direct news of his boy's condition. 
 Bramfield said he was more than ready to go. He 
 would have rushed off at once if he had not known that 
 she was coming to London, and would probably have 
 something to suggest that would be better than all his 
 vague plans. 
 
 " Well, you have not lost any time," she said. " We 
 only heard a day or two ago that the Germans would 
 be likely to allow anything of the kind. So we can 
 go together. And T. Scott must come. I insist. She 
 must see the concentration camp at Uden, whether she 
 likes it or not. You must insist, Bramfield. You can, 
 you know ! " 
 
 She laughed a shy little laugh, as if to indicate that 
 she knew a secret, and patted him on the hand. 
 
 " She'll come," he said, smiling. " As long as it is 
 not to a public meeting, T. Scott will come anywhere, 
 with a little urging! She only needs a little urging. 
 She's not accustomed to run about, as you and I do.
 
 268 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 We'll all go together. You have given me fresh heart. 
 I knew you would." 
 
 Gertrude Linton was tired and looked tired, but with 
 coffee and cakes and Tokay sne revived, and was at her 
 best, so bright and animated, eager and enthusiastic. 
 She held them all spellbound. She told them how she 
 helped to receive the exchanged prisoners at the fron- 
 tier, told them how they looked, what they said. She 
 told them thrilling stories about spies and escaped pris- 
 oners. She told them how the flying men interned at 
 a fortress in Holland dug a tunnel and were found in 
 the act, and how the Commandant, very angry at first, 
 forgave them and was photographed in the tunnel in 
 his pyjamas, smoking a cigar! She told them details 
 of what was going on in Holland, and rumours of hap- 
 penings in Germany, and numerous anecdotes of the 
 smuggling that took place, and incidents at the frontier, 
 both comic and tragic. She described her visit to the 
 Naval Division interned at Groningen and the Belgian 
 soldiers interned at Zeist, and spoke about the Belgian 
 refugees in their early misery and the present new con- 
 centration camps for them which Miss Scott was shortly 
 going to visit. Yes, she was. 
 
 " Go on, tell us something more," they kept on say- 
 ing when she stopped. 
 
 " Something more about the Secret Service," Wini- 
 fred said. 
 
 " Something more about the smuggling," Tom said. 
 
 " Something more about the prisoners," Rupert said. 
 
 " Yes, and something more about the wounded ones," 
 Marion said.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 269 
 
 " And about the homeless refugees," said Mrs. Thorn- 
 ton. "They fill me with pity." 
 
 She told them the tragedy of Aerschot a story 
 which came into the Press later. Madame Guerin had 
 come from Aerschot and Gertrude Linton gave them 
 her sad history in her very presence, knowing of course 
 that she could not understand. She did this on pur- 
 pose, so that they might hear a tale of wrong and 
 cruelty and brutality, with a living instance in their 
 midst testifying silently to her words. She told them 
 other instances which were included later in the Bryce 
 Report. 
 
 She roused their interest, enlisted their sympathy, 
 stimulated their patriotism. She cared so much her- 
 self, that all of them, listening to her, were moved by 
 the feeling that in their own separate ways, however 
 humble, they must do their bit to their uttermost limit 
 to save their own country from the fate she had de- 
 scribed a fate shared by the occupied parts of noble 
 France and later by Serbia and wherever the Germans 
 crushed a foe. 
 
 It was Mrs. Thornton who voiced their thoughts. 
 When she rose to go, she turned to Gertrude Linton, 
 put out both her hands and said: 
 
 " You have made me understand that no sacrifice can 
 be too great, and no service too strenuous. I cared 
 before, but now I care a thousand times more." 
 
 Upstairs, alone, she thanked Tamar for having given 
 them such a chance. 
 
 " We don't know enough in England," she said. 
 " We are too comfortable, too safe, too much intent on 
 our own personal concerns. God forbid that such a
 
 270 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 fate should overtake us, but we do need to have some 
 truths driven into us to awaken us to our best fulfil- 
 ment." 
 
 She drew a paper from her knitting-bag. It was 
 the old family paper which Rupert had found. 
 
 " I have long wanted," she said, " to show you some- 
 thing I value greatly something which Rupert found 
 in his father's desk. It seemed too sacred to speak of 
 even to you and yet I have all along wanted you to 
 see it, because it explained some things which wounded 
 me and over which you comforted me when I most 
 needed comfort. I will leave it with you. I cannot 
 speak of it now. It seems so personal, so petty and 
 unimportant, after hearing all that your friend has 
 been telling us. Old woman that I am, I feel stirred 
 to do or bear anything, everything, for England's sake." 
 
 " She stirs me," Tamar said. " When I hear her 
 and am with her, her disinterestedness always strikes 
 me afresh and impels me to break some of the bonds 
 which bind me to my own affairs. And against my 
 will." 
 
 Mrs. Thornton put the paper in Tamar's hands. 
 
 " Keep it in your safe," she said. " It has a right to 
 be there, for when you read it, you will understand that 
 in its way it is a treasure. I would rather that Rupert 
 had found it than any more precious stones hidden away 
 anywhere." 
 
 And then, as if she had dismissed all interest in per- 
 sonal concerns, she clasped her hands together, and 
 with a fervour which had nothing old in it, exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, that I were young! I envy that woman I 
 envy my boys Rupert, for what he has passed 
 through Tom, for what he is going to meet my
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 271 
 
 girls Marion, for her work in the hospital Wini- 
 fred, for hers Dorothy, at the Front. I envy all 
 young people. If I were young, nothing could hold me 
 back nothing." 
 
 That night, when Madame Guerin and her babe were 
 sleeping peacefully upstairs, and Gertrude Linton was 
 in a profound and well-deserved slumber on the Jacob- 
 ean couch, Tamar opened the Thornton family docu- 
 ment, and read the compact which Richard Thornton 
 had made with the Almighty on December 31st, 1789, 
 and the comment added by the man who had striven 
 against his secret passion for precious stones and 
 failed. There was the history of his spiritual combat 
 in a few bare words her history. He had failed 
 and died in failure. 
 
 And what about herself? Was she also going to 
 fail and die in failure? 
 
 She held the old yellow paper for a long time in her 
 hands. She understood what it meant to Mrs. Thorn- 
 ton. She saw how this message from the dead, more 
 than a century old, with its pathetic postscript, a year 
 or two old, explained, condoned, pleaded, reconciled, 
 healed. 
 
 She placed it on the upper shelf of the safe, where 
 her most cherished possessions lay concealed. 
 
 She fell asleep at last, but in her dreams a voice was 
 wafted to her, chanting, as if from infinite distance, the 
 words : 
 
 " Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, 
 where moth and rust doth corrupt and thieves break 
 through and steal." 
 
 The voice was Bramfield's.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 BRAMFIELD and Miss Linton got their way. 
 Tamar was persuaded to let him leave one of his 
 men in charge of the shop in Dean Street, and rushed off 
 to Holland as soon as he could make arrangements 
 about her passport and permit. It was easy enough 
 for him to come and go, because of his official connec- 
 tion with the American Relief Commission. And this 
 time Tamar went officially to help Miss Linton in the 
 work room at the concentration camp at Uden. Later, 
 it became impossible to get over so easily; but in these 
 earlier days the strictures as to travelling were not 
 severely enforced, though our Government was begin- 
 ning to take measures to discourage it, and the service 
 to Holland was already being curtailed. 
 
 Gertrude Linton had not been able to wait for them, 
 so they journeyed alone, as before. They left Tilbury 
 on a Saturday evening, and arrived at Flushing on 
 Sunday evening about six. They had an uneventful 
 journey, though Bramfield pointed out to Tamar an 
 Englishman who was being watched by Scotland Yard 
 on suspicion of having dealings with the enemy. Later 
 he was trapped, and met his fate one dawn outside the 
 Tower. The German wife of another Englishman was 
 also being shadowed. As a British subject, she was free 
 to move about, and as a German, married to a man who 
 had lived abroad for years and was known to have 
 pro-German tendencies, she had every access to Ger- 
 many* where her husband was interned at Ruhleben. 
 
 272
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 273 
 
 She was a delightful-looking woman, with the platform 
 manner and appearance of a prima donna in her prime. 
 Tamar shuddered to think of the fate which she might 
 be preparing for herself. 
 
 At Flushing they were met by Gertrude Linton and 
 one of their old acquaintances, the Belgian dclegue 
 working with the American Relief Commission, and were 
 whipped off to the hotel where they had stayed before. 
 
 " Flushing is more than ever a nest of spies, T. 
 Scott," Miss Linton said. " I have to be so careful, 
 that I scarcely dare snore in my sleep lest I should 
 thereby be giving away State secrets ! " 
 
 Gretchen, the German maid, was still there, but 
 her manner was decidedly less friendly, though she still 
 claimed to have a disinterested sympathy for all nations, 
 and said: 
 
 " Ach, ach, the mad people all at each other's throat. 
 Ach, ach, when will it all end, so that we can be happy 
 and peaceful again." 
 
 She had received a letter that morning from her 
 Fritz, interned in England, and she told Tamar about 
 it. 
 
 " He speaks well of the treatment," she said. 
 " Plenty of good food and no bullying. Na, na, the 
 English are kind. Always I speak of them as I found 
 them." 
 
 Tamar, remembering Miss Linton's words of caution, 
 did not allow herself to be drawn into any conversa- 
 tion ; and as it was second nature to her to be suspicious 
 and cautious, it was easy enough to be on her guard, 
 even though she certainly had no information to impart 
 nothing, she reflected, that seemed of the least im- 
 portance, except indeed the address of the Military
 
 274 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Hospital. But Gertrude Linton had told her that 
 every little detail was snatched up and devoured, and 
 that she would probably be questioned about her jour- 
 ney in a way, the artfulness of which she might not 
 realize. 
 
 Silence and sulkiness were therefore the best attri- 
 butes to possess on a visit to a neutral country; and 
 these Tamar had at her command in their perfected 
 condition. 
 
 The next morning Miss Linton whirled her off to 
 the Belgian refugee concentration camp (Vluchtoord) 
 at Uden, leaving Bramfield to make his way to The 
 Hague to see his friend, the American military attache, 
 and find out whether the proposed American Medical 
 Mission to Germany was really to be allowed to inspect 
 the prison camps, and whether Doberitz was to be in- 
 cluded in the list. 
 
 A car was waiting for them when they had arrived 
 at the nearest station, and after a drive of four or 
 five miles they arrived at Uden, where Tamar was going 
 to stay at the headquarters of the Society of Friends, 
 who had been invited by the Dutch to help in organizing 
 industries and employments for men and women in the 
 camp, and to superintend the erection of maisons de- 
 montables for the refugees with money provided by the 
 Friends' War Victims' Relief Committee, and by a gen- 
 erous gift from Denmark. 
 
 The camp was situated in fine open country, on 
 heather-covered moors stretching away nearly as far 
 as one could see. The Friends' hut and the maisons 
 demontables were outside the main camp itself, which 
 was directly opposite. To this suburb Miss Linton 
 and Tamar drove up. They waited to see a Dutch
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 275 
 
 marriage procession pass along the road, the bride in 
 the white head-dress of the district, surmounted by a 
 modern hat, the unmarried girls wearing, as usual, 
 their black head-dresses crowned in many instances by 
 modern millinery a strange mixture of tradition and 
 fashion by no means beautiful. Then they passed on 
 to their hut, where they were received by three 
 or four of the Friends' workers, and by some of the 
 Belgian refugees already established in their own 
 little homes. The children ran up and surrounded 
 Gertrude Linton at once. It was easy to see that they 
 loved her. 
 
 The hut consisted of a sitting-room, a kitchen and 
 two bedrooms, with beds which formed part of the struc- 
 ture. It was built in such a way that, like all the 
 other maisons demontables, it could be taken to pieces 
 and set up later in Belgium when happier times dawned 
 for the Belgian people. 
 
 A fragrant cup of coffee in the little sitting-room, 
 and then Tamar was taken out to see the sights. They 
 visited first of all some of the huts of which there were 
 already about sixty. Their first visit was to an old 
 woman of nearly eighty, who had three grandchildren 
 with her. She was proud of her cottage and grateful 
 for it. It was wonderful, she said, to have a home of 
 her own again, a separate, private, personal little home. 
 And there she would be able to rest and wait in patience 
 and serenity for the day which might, perhaps, never 
 dawn for her the day of return to her beloved Ter- 
 monde. But there was at least the hope in her heart 
 and meantime the unspeakable blessing of a real haven 
 all to herself, instead of a bare shelter shared with 
 hundreds. Tamar, who had seen the misery of the
 
 276 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 early days of flight and exile, the crowded sheds, the 
 packed barracks, the barges filled to overflowing, real- 
 ized as only one who had witnessed those heartrending 
 scenes could realize, the meaning and depth of the old 
 woman's thankfulness. 
 
 Very calm and beautiful she looked in the dignity of 
 her sweet patience. She waved to them as they left, 
 and pointed to the little ones playing with the sand out- 
 side and planting dead bits of heather to make a garden 
 like that of the English ladies. That was their ambi- 
 tion. At the moment, it seemed to have but small 
 chance of fulfilment, but Grand'mere was quite content 
 and said, smiling: 
 
 " Are they not making a beautiful garden, my clever 
 little ones?" 
 
 She called them back to show them the curtains which 
 she had lately received from the Society of Friends, 
 and which completed the exclusiveness of her private 
 establishment. 
 
 Then they called at some of the other houses, and 
 heard the same story of thankfulness; though not all 
 the refugees had the same charm of manner and sweet- 
 ness of spirit as Grand'mere. Tamar thought the 
 women were cheerier and more contented than the men. 
 The men looked sullen and listless on the whole, but 
 the carpenters who were putting up the houses, were in 
 better form and exhilarated by having definite occupa- 
 tion. They had a direct interest in their job, for 
 rightly enough, it had been arranged that those who 
 gave their work in this way, should have the prior 
 claim to inhabit the houses. Tamar and Miss Linton 
 watched them for a time, and some of the men from 
 the main camp had also strolled over to watch. It was
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 277 
 
 pathetic to see these able-bodied, idle fellows, idle 
 through no fault of their own, crowding round a scene 
 where at least some measure of activity was taking 
 place something with stir and life in it to break the 
 dead monotony of no events. No wonder that the 
 Dutch authorities, strained to the utmost in their efforts 
 for the care and housing of thousands of uninvited 
 guests, welcomed the help of outsiders to collaborate 
 with them in dealing with the tragedy of idleness and 
 the demoralization of character which inevitably accom- 
 panies it. Tamar, even in the first few hours after her 
 arrival, began to feel that the Friends' relief work was 
 something noble and far-reaching, like all constructive 
 work. They had stepped into the very heart of a 
 tragedy of destruction, and were quietly building up, 
 building up, building up and with no blast of trum- 
 pets. She learnt that they were doing the same in the 
 devastated parts of France ; and later she was to learn 
 that wherever the tragedy of destruction spread its ter- 
 rible net, the Friends were there to help the victims of 
 the war, and to show their deep-seated faith in the 
 power of love to alleviate and heal, and uplift. The 
 building of the hut, the employment of the men, the 
 housing of the refugee family was but a symbol. The 
 meaning touched her to the quick. Before she had left 
 the scene she had decided that she must add a cottage 
 to the number. She announced this news to Gertrude 
 Linton. 
 
 " Make it two," her friend said. " Make it two 
 whilst you're about it. Plenty of precious stones in 
 that safe, you know, waiting to be turned into ready 
 money. I promise not to tell Bramfield if you make 
 it two!"
 
 278 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 They did not visit the main camp that afternoon. 
 Miss Linton wanted Tamar to see it first on a week day, 
 when the workrooms were open and the life was in full 
 swing. But numbers of children came to the Friends' 
 quarters for games in which the workers joined. The 
 children were extraordinarily silent. No merry voices 
 rent the air. 
 
 " I shall not be content," Gertrude Linton said, " un- 
 til they are really happy as children ought to be. But 
 they are happier than they were. You should have 
 seen their sad, puzzled, bewildered faces at the begin- 
 ning. Then you'd know the difference." 
 
 Certainly she and her comrades put in a good deal 
 of work that afternoon to produce the results she de- 
 sired. She was untiring in her efforts to rouse and 
 interest them, and played games with them with the 
 same dash and vivacity characteristic of her on all her 
 more serious undertakings. Tamar again admired and 
 envied her easy ways with these little refugees and 
 the confidence she inspired. She had a smile and a pat 
 onithe head for each of them, and a flow of patois 
 mysterious and mixed but evidently understandable, 
 and an extraordinary memory for their names and 
 histories and the towns or villages they came from. 
 Six little orphan brothers and sisters from Antwerp 
 were her special care and thought. They were always 
 near her, the tiniest in her arms sometimes, with a doll 
 dangling head foremost. The proceedings terminated 
 with the gramophone, the children's greatest joy. 
 They crowded up to the open windows of the Friends' 
 hut, as close as they could get. If they had dared, they 
 would have scrambled in. Tamar from within looked 
 upon a sea of heads and eager faces. They were
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 279 
 
 packed like sardines, and did not stir an inch. It was 
 evident that the gramophone could not tire them out, 
 and that it had the same comforting fascination 
 for them as for our wounded soldiers in a hospital 
 ward. 
 
 The next morning Tamar and Miss Linton were start- 
 ing off to call on the Commandant, who was himself 
 going to show them the camp, when the vegetable cart 
 drawn by a big, proud dog arrived before the Friends' 
 house, and a good deal of lively bargaining of a friendly 
 nature took place between the owner and the Friends, 
 surrounded by the refugee residents from the cottages, 
 who also wanted to bargain and buy. When this ex- 
 citing function was over, Tamar and Miss Linton hur- 
 ried off to the Commandant's office. He was waiting 
 for them, and they at once began a tour of inspection. 
 
 About six thousand refugees were then being housed 
 at Uden, in long, low barracks, divided into separate 
 partitions for each family. They dined in large rooms 
 capable of holding about a thousand each. There was 
 a hospital, a church, and a school and a town hall, the 
 abode of the Burgomaster. Long stretches of these 
 barrack buildings on a waste of sandy soil gave rather 
 an impression of dreary desolation ; but Tamar, remem- 
 bering the sights she had seen in the early days, could 
 only marvel at the ordered care and detailed concern 
 evolved by the generous Dutch out of an apparently 
 hopeless chaos of difficulties. Here at least the refu- 
 gees had a chance of living decent, respectable lives, and 
 were housed, fed and kept in circumstances approaching 
 as nearly as possible to normal conditions. And best 
 of all, the children were being cared for in a very special 
 way which did honour to the Dutch. They had borne
 
 280 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 it in mind that the true hope of any country lies in its 
 children; and so in Uden they were safeguarded, well 
 looked after and well taught. 
 
 The Commandant seemed as anxious about their wel- 
 fare as that other Commandant at Rosendaal, who had 
 almost wept because there were no dolls for the chil- 
 dren. He took Tamar to the hospital and showed her 
 with pride the babies lying in their cribs outside, under 
 the pine trees. He evidently loved the little ones, and 
 was bent on helping to make them grow up strong. 
 
 " And you see," he said, " the situation is a healthy 
 one for them, isn't it? One of the healthiest spots in 
 Holland." 
 
 He spoke admirable English and liked to be con- 
 gratulated on his fluency. He liked also to air it, and 
 left Tamar and Miss Linton reluctantly to go off and 
 see some big-wig member of the Government who had 
 arrived unexpectedly. 
 
 " But I could not leave you in better hands," he said 
 to Tamar. " Miss Linton knows all about us. And be 
 sure that she shows you the schools. And ask the Sister 
 to make the little ones sing to you." 
 
 To the school house they went, and made the ac- 
 quaintance of the schoolmaster, who showed them the 
 boys' class-rooms in a dour kind of way, and did not 
 seem disposed to answer questions or impart interest- 
 ing information about his refugee pupils. So they 
 were glad to be handed over to the gentle and friendly 
 Flemish Sister in charge of the girls. 
 
 She welcomed them with open arms and was delighted 
 to talk with them about the children, and knew their his- 
 tories and their circumstances by heart. Yes, this little 
 one from Liege had lost her sisters and brother, and
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 281 
 
 her father was at the Front, and her grandmother had 
 died during the flight to the frontier. And this little 
 fair-haired one from Antwerp, so quiet and sensible, 
 too quiet and sensible for her tender years, had piloted 
 her sick mother and her wee brothers and sisters to 
 safety, and assumed responsibility for their welfare, as 
 if she were head of the family. And, as Mademoiselle 
 Linton well knew, she was proud beyond words of the 
 house assigned her so kindly by the Friends who thought 
 she deserved a separate home for her brood. No one 
 grudged it to her. The workmen who put it together 
 rejoiced to think that la petite Jeanne and her family 
 were going to inhabit it. Would the other English 
 lady like to speak to Jeanne? Yes, Tamar said she 
 would. 
 
 But when she tried to say a few words to the brave 
 little one, she found she could not speak. Something 
 clutched her at the throat. Something dimmed her 
 eyes. It was Gertrude Linton who was able to make 
 appropriate matter-of-fact inquiries after Jeanne's 
 household, in a voice which did not falter and in that 
 celebrated mixture of patois and Lintonese which as 
 usual did not fail. Tamar, who could have almost 
 counted on one hand the times when she had shed tears, 
 nearly wept as she thought of that child's endurance 
 and quiet heroism. 
 
 They visited several of the class-rooms, heard some 
 of the lessons, exchanged smiles with the Sisters, who 
 were pleased and gratified with their interest in the 
 children, and came finally to a class-room where the nun 
 who was conducting them, bade them wait for a moment 
 or two whilst the children sang to them. She charged 
 them to sing their best for the English ladies who were
 
 282 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 their friends, their own friends and the friends of their 
 beloved country. They stood up, and at a sign from 
 her their young voices rose. They sang " De Leeuw 
 van Vlanandren" their national song, and one or two 
 of the verses of Rubens's Cantade. 
 
 It was unspeakably touching to see and hear all these 
 homeless little exiles singing their home songs in a 
 strange land. They of course knew nothing of the 
 pathos of the scene, nothing of the appeal they made 
 to their listeners. Very surprised and wondering would 
 they have been, if they had been told that the memory 
 of their little figures, their eager faces, and the songs 
 they sang, would be an abiding recollection, sad yet 
 consoling. For there was consolation in the thought 
 that they were safe, and that everything was being done 
 for them that could be done by the generous neighbour- 
 ing nation which had given them sanctuary. The nun 
 knew some of the emotions stirred up in the hearts of 
 the Englishwomen. She whispered: 
 
 " It is a joy to hear them and a sadness too my 
 poor little homeless ones." 
 
 " You make their school life almost like their native 
 country for them," Gertrude Linton said kindly. " No- 
 where else in the camp does it feel so homelike and 
 happy as here with the Flemish Sisters. Such a beau- 
 tiful work to do for them." 
 
 The Sister's face lit up with a smile of almost divine 
 tenderness and protection. 
 
 " Ah, Madame," she said, " to know them safe here 
 after all they have passed through, after all we hear 
 of the terrible fate of those in the power of the enemy. 
 What would one not do and be for them? " 
 
 As they passed into the corridor, she pointed to the
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 283 
 
 long row of clogs outside the class-rooms, and seemed 
 delighted when Miss Linton snapshotted the quaint pic- 
 ture. But a still greater delight awaited her: for the 
 schoolmaster came to tell her that a photographer had 
 arrived to make a few pictures of the camp for illus- 
 trations in one of the Dutch newspapers, and that the 
 Commandant wished him to begin with the school chil- 
 dren. 
 
 In a moment all was bustle and excitement. All the 
 boys and girls were sent into the school yard and herded 
 together against the school house, the only grown-up 
 people being the Reverend Mother and the Sisters, who 
 intermingled with them and added to the picturesque- 
 ness of the scene. They placed the smallest ones in 
 front, so that not a single head might be missing. Miss 
 Linton and Tamar helped to arrange them, and the 
 Commandant himself strolled up and looked through the 
 camera once or twice, to make sure that all was well. 
 He stopped the proceedings to add to the group an atom 
 of a boy in a striped blouse, who was sucking his thumb 
 just outside the range. Then he looked again, nodded 
 approval ; and there was a flash and a bang and the 
 deed was done. 
 
 " It will be a lovely and a clever picture," he said. 
 " And what shall we call it? " 
 
 " The Dutch caring for the strangers within their 
 gates," Tamar said instantly. 
 
 " Thank you, Mademoiselle," he said, turning away. 
 
 Afterwards Miss Linton and Tamar strolled through 
 the camp by themselves and chatted with various of- 
 ficials, including the tall and imposing Dutch police- 
 man, who, like the Commandant, was delighted to air his
 
 28* WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 English, though in his case his eloquence was limited 
 to two or three phrases such as : " All right," " Good 
 morning ! " Tamar noticed numbers of young men loll- 
 ing about doing nothing, or else playing cards, in the 
 barrack compartments. At that time conscription in 
 the Belgian Army had not come into force; and there 
 were apparently hundreds of Belgians even in that 
 one camp, who had no desire or ambition to fight for 
 their country. It was a piteous spectacle to see them 
 thus bored, listless, probably stunned by what they 
 had passed through, and with no energy to find occupa- 
 tion for themselves. 
 
 There were workshops of various kinds for tailors, 
 shoemakers, basket makers, brush makers, smiths and 
 tinsmiths; and in the women's workrooms the knitting 
 industry was carried on, together with rug-making, 
 raffia-work, fine needlework and mattress making. 
 
 It was to the Friends' Workroom or Zaal that Ger- 
 trude Linton now took Tamar, where she was supposed 
 to justify her visit to Holland by rendering aid of which 
 she was entirely incapable. Rug-making and fine 
 needle-work did not form part of Tamar's equipment in 
 life; but, as Miss Linton said, she could at least criti- 
 cize and offer a few vague remarks when the woman 
 showed her what they were doing. 
 
 " Look very wise and say very little," Miss Linton 
 enjoined, " and they'll all think you are an expert of 
 experts. They will love to talk to you, and you must 
 pretend to understand all they say. It's very simple. 
 All they want is kindness and encouragement. Remem- 
 ber how well you managed with Marie Louise, and 
 Madam Guerin and the baby." 
 
 It was an interesting scene to see all the young, mid-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 285 
 
 die-aged and even old women happily at work, either 
 making wool rugs or else engaged on needlework of some 
 kind. They were delighted to be employed, and there 
 was an atmosphere of content and happy peacefulness 
 in the room, which was in itself a tribute to the Friends 
 who had started this industry, and to the individual 
 kindness and tactfulness of the helpers. It is certain 
 that a spiritual gratitude reigned in that busy Zaal. 
 The girls and women were not only interested in their 
 separate tasks, but thankful that their lives had been 
 arranged for them and that they had something to 
 do. 
 
 And the Friends had established good discipline with- 
 out a trace of mechanical tyranny. A new value had 
 been put on the meaning of work ; a new outlook had 
 been quietly but deliberately insisted on. It was this: 
 the women had to deserve to work ; they had to behave 
 themselves ; they had to care to be industrious ; only on 
 those conditions could they be allowed the privilege of 
 working. Tamar learnt that the unruly were punished 
 simply by banishment from the Zaal, and that two or 
 three of the troublesome spirits who had been shut out 
 in the cold, came and looked in at the windows longingly 
 day after day, until they were again admitted when 
 they sinned no more. 
 
 Tamar passed amongst them with Miss Linton, ad- 
 mired their handiwork, smiled at them, and was received 
 by them all in most friendly fashion. There were three 
 or four of the Friends' helpers superintending the work, 
 pleasant, sympathetic, capable young women, looking 
 cheerful and attractive in pink overalls. A delightful 
 relationship of confidence had evidently been established 
 between them and the refugees.
 
 286 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Tamar was told some of the histories of the refugees. 
 One young woman from Aerschot, with a sad wistful 
 face, was pointed out to her, whose father, three broth- 
 ers and a cousin of sixteen years, had been deliberately 
 taken out and shot when the Germans arrived in this 
 peaceful village. Aerschot was one of the places which 
 suffered most in the early days from German cruelty ; 
 and Julia Gyseman's tragedy, like that of Madame 
 Guerin, was but one of scores occurring in that village 
 alone, where every third man was shot at once. An- 
 other woman, Clementina Peeters, had lost her baby, 
 who had died in her arms during the terrible days of 
 flight towards the frontier. A pretty young girl from 
 Vise, who was making a wool rug from a design of the 
 Royal Arms of Belgium, was entirely alone in the world. 
 So far, all attempts to trace her family had failed. 
 Tamar ordered that rug, and had the satisfaction of 
 seeing her face light up with a smile. She was working 
 at full speed, as one almost possessed. 
 
 " Carolin Bertels scarcely ever speaks," Miss Linton 
 said. " She only works. She is one of the girls to 
 whom this place has been a godsend. I think she would 
 have gone mad without it. She was the first to come 
 to us. If you could have seen her then, you would 
 not know her now." 
 
 Yet even Carolin Bertels joined sometimes in the 
 songs which rose up in the workroom. She joined now 
 when some of the gayer spirits at the farther end of the 
 room started a well-known tune. 
 
 " I've never before heard Carolin sing so lustily," 
 Miss Linton said. " That's because you've ordered one 
 of her rugs. Make it two, T. Scott! Plenty of pre- 
 cious stones in that safe waiting to be turned into ready
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 287i 
 
 money. I won't tell Bramfield if you make it two 
 or three ! " 
 
 Before they left the workroom, they visited the 
 special corner where some boys who had begged to be 
 admitted, were busy making hempen shoes. Tamar 
 learnt that when they were too naughty, the magic 
 doors were closed to them. But naughtiness passed by 
 easy stages into penitence, and from penitence into 
 faithful co-operation. She also learnt that at Uden all 
 wages were paid not in money but in " points " discs, 
 some of which were banked by the authorities for the 
 future, whilst the rest could be exchanged for goods in 
 the camp, but could not be used in any other way. 
 
 After Tamar's first introduction to the Friends' Zaal, 
 she often slipped in there and sat amongst the women, 
 and nearly always near those who had been pointed out 
 to her as specially sad and desolate. They looked for 
 her coming. They thought she was very beautiful. 
 Bramfield would have been pleased to hear this and to 
 know, therefore, that she was at her best. 
 
 He came in a day or twc. He had seen the American 
 Legation at The Hague and had learnt the good news 
 that the Germans were going to sanction an inspection 
 of their prisoners' camps by an Official American Medi- 
 cal Mission. As Doberitz was on the list of the camps 
 to be visited, Bramfield had reason to hope that he 
 might receive direct tidings of Bruce. He knew 'that 
 his friends would leave no stone unturned to relieve 
 his mind, and so he was in good spirits and prepared 
 to enjoy himself, with that remarkable quality of 
 resilience which was part of his temperament. 
 
 He would, of course, have liked to have slipped in with
 
 288 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 that Medical Mission ; but this would have been impos- 
 sible. But, as subsequent events proved, the idea of 
 getting into Germany by hook or crook and making his 
 way to Doberitz was born in his mind. He was by na- 
 ture reckless and daring, and impossibilities never de- 
 terred him from his aims. He had been educated at 
 Heidelberg, and he knew German well, and had always 
 travelled and stayed a good deal in the country, for 
 business and pleasure. He was quite capable of making 
 a dash into Germany on his own account and trusting 
 to his luck. But for the moment, he was content to 
 wait developments and hear the report and experiences 
 of the Mission, reflecting, no doubt, that the informa- 
 tion which the Americans were likely to bring back, 
 would aid him in carrying out his secret scheme, which 
 was to help Bruce to escape. 
 
 Tamar was delighted to see him and ready to do any- 
 thing he suggested. He and Miss Linton whisked her 
 off to two or three other refugee camps ; and they went 
 also to visit the English airmen who were interned in a 
 fortress, and saw the Commandant who had forgiven the 
 boys for digging a tunnel of escape, and had been pho- 
 tographed in it in his pyjamas! The airmen welcomed 
 their English visitors with real joy fulness. They were 
 bored and sick at their bad luck, and horribly disgusted 
 at having their wings clipped. They were not allowed, 
 of course, to send letters or documents, but they loaded 
 Tamar and Bramfield with messages to their people, 
 which they were to deliver the moment they touched 
 English soil. Sad and wistful looked the young fellows 
 as they waved their last good-byes. Tamar thought of 
 her friend Tom, and was thankful to know that he was 
 at large, and free to do nose-diving, looping-the-loop
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 289 
 
 and all the many other " stunts " with which he had 
 bewildered her brain. 
 
 It was when they drove to Nynwegen, a frontier town 
 about fourteen miles from Uden, where they caught a 
 glimpse of the Rhine and the German Landwehr sol- 
 diers, that Tamar got a first inkling of the thought that 
 was in Bramfield's mind. 
 
 " Easy enough, I should say, to get into Germany," 
 he remarked quietly. 
 
 " Yes, but not so easy to get out, I should imagine," 
 she said. "Do you want to go into Germany?" 
 
 He made no answer. 
 
 They journeyed to another frontier, Gennep, the 
 scene of much smuggling, many thrilling escapes, and 
 many terrible tragedies ; for not all of those who were 
 making a dash for liberty, were able to avoid the snare 
 of the barbed and electric wire with which the Germans 
 trapped their victims. Gertrude Linton showed them 
 a photograph of a dead man caught in that mesh, which 
 told its tragic tale only too vividly. But she told them 
 that there had been many successful ventures only 
 lately, and that numbers of Belgians had gained the 
 river and miraculously missed being shot whilst swim- 
 ming to safety. 
 
 " If they had luck, other people could," Bramfield 
 said, half to himself. 
 
 "What do you mean by that, Bramfield?" Tamar 
 asked sharply. 
 
 " Nothing, nothing," he answered, with a smile. 
 
 ** Yes, you do mean something," she said almost 
 fiercely. " You want to go into Germany to get to 
 Bruce. That's what you're after." 
 
 " How do you know it? " he asked.
 
 290 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " I know it and feel it," she said. 
 
 " Taraar," he said, " I cannot tell you how I long to 
 break down all barriers and get at that boy. Sense or 
 no sense, that's how I am feeling. Do you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 For answer she put her arm through his and made 
 him turn his back on Germany and look towards Hol- 
 land, as if she feared he would be tempted, then and 
 there. Her anxious concern for him testified to her 
 real love for him, and comforted him not a little. 
 
 " Do you care all that much? " he said. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " you know I do. Promise me 
 not to do anything absurd, Bramfield. I could not 
 bear it." 
 
 " Do you care all that much? " he repeated. 
 
 " Yes," she answered again, " you know I do. But 
 I cannot go on saying it an indefinite number of times. 
 Now promise me." 
 
 " I will promise to try and not do anything absurd," 
 he said. " That's all I can promise." 
 
 And she had to be content with that. 
 
 They heard all sorts of amusing smuggling stories, 
 but the one which pleased Tamar most, was that of the 
 German baby who arrived in Holland in normal condi- 
 tion, and returned to the Fatherland alarmingly in- 
 creased in bulk and weight, having been padded with 
 soap ! It was interesting to hear of cows manoeuvred 
 quietly over the frontier by means of a plentiful ration 
 of salt to lick and enjoy in a languishing forgetfulness 
 of outer circumstances. She heard so many stories 
 that, with all her experiences crowding one upon the 
 other, she forgot some of the best. Often she found
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 291 
 
 herself saying: " I must try and recall every single de- 
 tail in order to tell Seymour and the others in Ward Z." 
 She sent Seymour some postcards about which Bramfield 
 pretended to be jealous, though he ended by buying a 
 number himself and giving them to her with the words: 
 
 "For that jewel friend of yours my rival, whom 
 I must slay when he has recovered." 
 
 But he was proud and delighted to know that she 
 was visiting a hospital and taking an interest in the 
 wounded. Until then, she had not told him. She al- 
 ways hid, as if they were some shameful conspiracies, 
 any kindly deeds she had braced herself up to do. 
 
 Charming was Bramfield's relationship with Tamar in 
 these days. His sunny, unselfish nature made every- 
 thing easy for her, in an intimacy which demanded noth- 
 ing she could not give. There was not even the strain 
 of silence between them on the subject of her reluctance 
 to marry him. 
 
 " The great thing is that I have got you, my Tamar," 
 he said. " You can't do without me, and I can't do 
 without you. That is something big to have won out 
 of life. Who knows, if we married, we might have a 
 deadly quarrel over diamonds which you don't appre- 
 ciate properly, or over that wretched old char of 
 yours, who divides her fidelity between you and the gin 
 bottle." 
 
 " Gin or no gin, she has been faithful to me for fifteen 
 years," Tamar said staunchly. " And I won't have any 
 one say a word against her." 
 
 " There now, you see," he said, with a laugh, " we're 
 beginning already. Heaven help us if we ever were 
 to get married ! " 
 
 And he teased her.
 
 292 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Are you sure you wouldn't like to run up to Alk- 
 maar and have some schaper-kaas and pekel-haring with 
 a certain Weduwe Maas at Egmond op den Hoef ? " he 
 asked mischievously. " Are you sure you wouldn't like 
 to buy another Dutch ship with a reconstructed " 
 
 " Bramfield, don't ! " she pleaded. " I can't bear to 
 think or talk of that episode." 
 
 " But you are never going to insult me again, are 
 you? " he said, with a twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " I hope not," she answered. " But one never 
 knows." 
 
 They visited Rotterdam again and sought the offices 
 of the American Relief Commission, where the work of 
 sending food to the Belgians in Belgium was still go- 
 ing on successfully. The Representative and his wife 
 had returned to America, and all the personnel had 
 changed with the exception of one of the Belgian clerks 
 whose brother had made his way back to Ghent to find 
 traces of his mother and sisters and had never re- 
 turned. The vessels were still arriving safely, laden 
 with grain and salt and rice and canned milk; for in 
 those days there was no torpedoing of Relief Ships. 
 But the effort of keeping up the supplies month after 
 month, was becoming a serious matter, and the Ameri- 
 cans were beginning to find relations with the Germans 
 more and more difficult as the German grip on Belgium 
 tightened. 
 
 But though that gracious company had gone, the 
 memory of each one of them made Rotterdam a meeting 
 place of friendships never to be forgotten, and conjured 
 up emotions destined to stand the wear and tear of time 
 and space.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 293 
 
 They finished up at Uden, and Tamar spent the last 
 two or three days in the Friends' Zaal amongst the 
 women to justify her journey, so Gertrude Linton 
 put it. 
 
 " And very well you've managed, T. Scott," she 
 said. " You've looked wise, and nodded or shaken your 
 head to perfection when the girls have shown you their 
 work. That's the way to do things. Look wise and 
 say nothing, and the world will take you for a prophet 
 or a genius or an expert. All the workers think you 
 are an awful ' knut.' It is a good thing you are going. 
 My nose would soon be out of joint." 
 
 The morning she left, the whole Zaal followed her 
 to the door and circled round her, telling her to make 
 haste and come back again from England. Bramfield, 
 who witnessed the scene with the same pleasure which 
 he always showed when Tamar was appreciated, said : 
 
 " Well, one thing is plain, my Tamar ; you have not 
 been sulky and disagreeable in Uden." 
 
 " Those forlorn and homeless refugee women have 
 moved me very much," she said, as if in excuse. 
 
 At Flushing they learnt that exchanged civilian pris- 
 oners from Germany and England would be passing 
 through Holland the next day. Gertrude Linton was 
 one of the Reception Committee for the British, and 
 through her influence Bramfield and Tamar shared 
 the glad, though sad, opportunity of welcoming and 
 taking care of the poor fellows from Ruhleben, who 
 looked more than half starved, were scantily clothed, 
 and seemed broken in health and spirit. One or two 
 were ,out of their mind. The difference between their 
 condition and that of the Germans from England, who 
 arrived well clothed and well fed, was enough to make
 
 294 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 all British beholders weep from grief and rage. 
 Gertrude Linton could scarcely control Bramfield from 
 causing a scene. She appealed to Tamar. 
 
 " Do make your wretched Bramfield behave," she 
 whispered. " We can't afford to have a disturbance 
 here. It would never do." 
 
 " Bramfield, do try and not make a fool of yourself," 
 Tamar enjoined, in a voice which was none too certain. 
 
 The sight of the contrast maddened him, as the sight 
 and the memory of it maddened others for many a long 
 day. Only Tamar could have calmed him. 
 
 She herself was never to forget that scene. Never 
 was she to forget the moment when she handed a rose 
 to one of the frailest invalids, and his face lit up with a 
 smile of ecstasy. 
 
 " Roses," he said, " the loveliest flower of the love- 
 liest land in the world." 
 
 Nor was Tamar ever to banish from her mind the 
 remembrance of that quiet English lady who had kept 
 a school in Brussels and had been seized and imprisoned 
 under suspicion of being a spy, and only liberated when 
 even the utmost hostility could not sustain the flimsy 
 case against her. , 
 
 " Is it possible," she said, with a light in her eyes, 
 " that I am to see the shores of England again? Can 
 you tell me that I'm not dreaming? " 
 
 No, they were not dreaming, those poor sufferers. 
 Dawn had come in very truth, banishing despair and 
 bringing a bright fulfilment of dim hopes. 
 
 Tamar parted with Gertrude Linton with the same 
 regret that she always felt when she had to say good-bye 
 to this exacting friend. 
 
 " Oh, I shall be over soon," Miss Linton said. " As
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 295 
 
 before, expect me at any time with any number of people 
 to be housed, clothed and fed. Now, you have enjoyed 
 yourself, haven't you? Are you not pleased you did 
 not persist in being ' stuffy,' and remaining at 
 home?" 
 
 " I have not minded coming," Tamar answered. 
 
 " Take your wretched old Bramfield in hand and make 
 him keep calm about his boy and everything else," Ger- 
 trude Linton enjoined. "There is nothing to be done 
 about Bruce for the present. I'll keep in close touch 
 with the Legation and let him know all the news. 
 Couldn't you possibly manage to marry him soon? 
 That would keep him quiet for a while." 
 
 Tamar laughed her soft little laugh. 
 
 She had some difficulty in persuading Bramfield to 
 leave Holland. Though he wanted to go with her, 
 he also wanted to stay behind, in order to be on the 
 spot to receive news of Bruce. But he gave in and 
 journeyed home with her. They had no further experi- 
 ences except the arrival of a spy at Tilbury an 
 Austrian woman this time and a narrow escape from 
 a floating mine, and a thrilling bit of companionship 
 with four Belgians and one young Englishman who, 
 after innumerable adventures, including five weeks' hid- 
 ing in a monastery, had arrived at the frontier, and 
 at the eleventh hour nearly got shot in swimming across 
 the river. 
 
 " But you see they did not get shot, my Tamar," 
 Bramfield said stubbornly, when talking with her over 
 the story. 
 
 Tamar was worn out with all her adventures and emo- 
 tions, and slept uninterruptedly for many hours.
 
 296 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 She was awakened at length by the old char, who 
 stood over her saying: 
 
 " Times is changed, times is changed and no mistake. 
 Never did I see the like this fifteen year and more. A 
 shop full of customers and no one to attend to them."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TAMAR was tremendously stimulated by her visit to 
 Holland, but rather thankful to be quietly settled 
 in her own den again and to share in the repose which 
 England was still enjoying at that time, and indeed for 
 many long months afterwards, before the home people 
 began to realize that a war was really going on in 
 which their country had great stakes. As Bramfield 
 truly said, politicians and the public were all comfort- 
 ably asleep, and the only persons who were awake were 
 the profiteers, and they had never closed their eyes from 
 the outset. 
 
 She sank for a while into this blissful condition of 
 peacefulness, and had a spell of ecstasy over her pre- 
 cious stones and a rather severe attack of graspingness 
 and commercial sharpness, as if to make up for three 
 weeks' neglect of all business interests. Then she re- 
 laxed and became more human. The day after the 
 pendulum had thus swung back, an exceedingly hand- 
 some young woman, obviously of the so-called upper 
 class, beautifully dressed and in faultless taste, pranced 
 into the shop and produced from her dainty satchel a 
 small round box from which she took what appeared to 
 be a superb emerald. She said she wished to sell it. 
 
 Tamar gave a swift, professional glance at her vis- 
 itor, sized her up as being a person who was in some 
 pressing difficulty, examined the stone carefully, and 
 looked at the little round box, which seemed to take 
 her fancy. 
 
 297
 
 298 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " That is an interesting box," she said. " What is 
 it made of?" 
 
 " Pith of the lime tree," the young woman answered. 
 " There's a faint smell of the lime." 
 
 Tamar sniffed at it and nodded her head. 
 
 " I should like to have it," she said. " I should like 
 to buy it for a trifle." 
 
 " I came to sell the emerald, not the box," the young 
 woman said impatiently. 
 
 Tamar glared at her and then said with an irritating 
 unconcern : 
 
 " Oh, yes, the emerald. I'd forgotten it. How much 
 are you expecting for it? " 
 
 " I am willing to take 150 for it," was the prompt 
 answer. 
 
 Tamar laughed softly. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, in an amused tone of voice, 
 " I don't run this business for charity." 
 
 " The emerald is worth far more than 150," the 
 young woman said, her hand trembling from annoyance 
 and impatience. " I know that absolutely for certain. 
 But I need 150 at once, and so would let it go for that 
 sum." 
 
 " No one has ever been here to sell something who 
 did not need a certain fixed sum urgently," Tamar said 
 quite good-temperedly. " But no one has ever got it. 
 And why not ? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose because you beat every one down," 
 the young woman answered, with a shrug of her shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 " Partly that, of course," Tamar replied, with one 
 of her grim smiles. " But also because in nine cases 
 out of ten, the demands of the people desirous of selling
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 299 
 
 are based on an ignorance which is both amazing and 
 amusing. Now and again, of course, they undervalue 
 their property. I've known some remarkable instances. 
 But I shouldn't be able to add you to them." 
 
 " I know for certain that the stone is a valuable one," 
 the young woman insisted petulantly. " It is said to 
 be a particularly beautiful emerald." 
 
 Tamar turned it over, examined it afresh and held it 
 up to the light, but in a leisurely, perfunctory fashion, 
 as if she were playing with it rather than bestowing 
 any serious consideration on its merits or shortcom- 
 ings. 
 
 " It is rather a beautiful colour, and its brilliancy 
 is not at all bad," she said at last. " But unfortunately 
 it is only a reconstructed emerald. Its value is about 
 sixteen or seventeen pounds at the most. If it had 
 been a natural stone, it would have been worth round 
 about 350." 
 
 " A reconstructed emerald ! " the young woman ex- 
 claimed angrily. " I don't believe it." 
 
 " I don't ask you to believe it," Tamar remarked 
 dryly. " I merely make the bare statement. You are 
 at liberty to believe what you choose and take your re- 
 constructed emerald elsewhere. I certainly have no 
 use for it." 
 
 She added, whether to irritate, or else because she 
 really wished for the little box : 
 
 " I wouldn't mind buying the little lime box for five 
 shillings. I rather like it." 
 
 " It is not for sale," the Hon. Maude St. Clair Ever- 
 ard said haughtily. 
 
 She whipped up her property and was beating a re- 
 treat when Tamar detained her.
 
 300 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " If you will come into the inner room," she said, 
 " I'll take the trouble to give you a lesson and show 
 you the difference between a natural and a recon- 
 structed stone. Then you won't have a second disap- 
 pointment." 
 
 '" I don't want a lesson," Miss Everard retorted. " I 
 want to sell the stone. I must sell it. ' I must have a 
 hundred and fifty pounds. I simply must. If I 
 don't . . ." 
 
 She broke off. She became suddenly confused. She 
 bit her lips and tried to control her feelings and main- 
 tain her dignity, but in vain. It was obvious that she 
 was bitterly disappointed and disconcerted. She threw 
 herself on the chair and burst into tears. 
 
 T. Scott watched her with a curious, detached inter- 
 est. She knew the type well. 
 
 " A pressing bridge debt, I suppose? " she said dryly. 
 
 The girl she was only a girl looked up. 
 
 " How do you know? " she asked, half tearfully, half 
 angrily. 
 
 " Oh, I generally know," Tamar said casually. " I 
 know when people come to make a sacrifice for some one 
 or something and are disappointed with what I offer 
 them. And I know, too, when they are pressed for 
 money or have lost at bridge. Directly I saw you, I 
 said : ' Bridge.' Well, I repeat my offer. I will give 
 you five shillings for the little lime box, and a lesson in 
 precious stones. Very generous of me, and I don't 
 know why I should take the trouble for you, unless it is 
 that you are young. I rather like young people." 
 
 " I'm so awfully disappointed," Miss Everard sobbed. 
 
 " Most people are," Tamar said, in her grimmest way.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 301 
 
 " I am always. Once I was myself terribly disap- 
 pointed over a recon . . ." 
 
 She broke off and dispelled the unwelcome vision of 
 Weduwe Maas and a Dutch nef. 
 
 She pointed with a quiet imperiousness to the inner 
 room and led the way, followed unwillingly by her vic- 
 tim, who apparently had no power to resist her influ- 
 ence. She signed to her to be seated and then opened 
 the safe, from which, after a somewhat prolonged 
 process of selection, she took two or three rings and a 
 few unset sapphires, emeralds and rubies, some of them 
 reconstructed, others natural stones. 
 
 " Now," she said, " here is a real emerald a beau- 
 tiful specimen. Contrast it with your priceless posses- 
 sion. I suppose you see no difference. No, you would 
 not be likely to. But I'll explain to you if you'll leave 
 off sobbing in that absurd fashion." 
 
 She explained simply and concisely the difference 
 between reconstructed and natural stones, and dwelt a 
 little on the qualities of hardness, colour, brilliancy and 
 transparency, which she exemplified in the stones she 
 had chosen for her lesson. And having brought her 
 technical remarks to a close, one would have thought 
 that she would have ceased talking, and dismissed her 
 visitor. But she did nothing of the kind. It was prob- 
 able that after her absence in Holland, she was excited 
 at seeing her gems, and was carried away by renewed en- 
 thusiasm. Anyway, she continued to talk on the sub- 
 ject of precious stones, and became increasingly fervent 
 until she reached a condition of entire rapture which was 
 reflected on her face. For, in spite of the modifications 
 which her character was undergoing, she would never
 
 302 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 have been able to root out her dominant passion from 
 the depths of her nature. So now she lost herself in a 
 fairyland of delight. She poured out all her knowledge, 
 all her love, in a voice thrilling with pride, crooning 
 with tenderness, whispering with mystery. She had 
 forgotten her audience. For the moment the outer 
 world had ceased to exist for her. Certainly the Hon. 
 Maude. 
 
 The girl listened, amazed, awed, uneasy. She was 
 not particularly intelligent, and had only been mod- 
 erately educated. A round of pleasures was her only 
 conception of life. She was entirely without any power 
 of continuous interestedness and concentration. But, 
 for the life of her, she could not have moved from the 
 inner room. She sat where Tamar had placed her, 
 holding in her hand the despised reconstructed emerald 
 on which she had set such a fictitious value, and with 
 which she had planned to discharge a pressing bridge 
 debt. Against her will, against her frivolous, shallow 
 nature, she was arrested by Tamar's fire of enthusiasm. 
 To her, gems had only meant objects of adornment, to 
 be worn for display, or capable sometimes of conversion 
 into money for convenient purposes. She had never 
 heard, much less thought of, the meaning of a precious 
 stone, its soul, its spirit, its mystery. Later she would 
 laugh perhaps. But she had no inclination to laugh 
 now. She remained subdued and patient, waiting with 
 a vague resignation for the order of release. 
 
 It came at last. There was a ring at the bell. 
 Maude Everard's minimum of attention collapsed in- 
 stantly. Her heart leapt within her at the joyful pros- 
 pect of immediate escape. But no. Tamar continued 
 her rhapsody entirely unconscious of any disturbing
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 303 
 
 summons. There was another ring, and this time May- 
 fair human nature could stand the strain no longer. 
 The victim took courage and spoke. 
 
 " Don't you hear some one at the door? " she said. 
 " Some one has been ringing before." 
 
 Tamar stared at her vacantly, and then, in a dreamy 
 way, as one only half roused from an ecstatic trance, 
 vanished like a spirit into the shop, leaving the safe 
 open. 
 
 The girl was going to follow, when suddenly the devil 
 entered into her and tempted her. Wasn't this an op- 
 portunity for her? Why shouldn't she avail herself of 
 it ? Wouldn't she be a fool not to do so ? How would 
 it be if she took one of those rings which the woman had 
 put at the back of the upper shelf that rich, velvety 
 emerald, for instance, worth several hundred pounds? 
 Could she? Dared she? Yes, why not? It was such 
 a chance. It would never come again. 
 
 She glanced round to make sure that she was alone, 
 and then, without any thought of consequences, without 
 a moment's hesitation, bent forward, snatched a ring 
 and stuffed it in her coat pocket. 
 
 " If I don't move from here until she returns, she 
 won't suspect anything," she thought, as her heart beat 
 wildly. " If I were to rush off now, she might have her 
 doubts. But if I stay, I'm safe." 
 
 And she kept on repeating to herself : 
 
 " If I stav, I'm safe. But, oh, dear, I wish I could 
 
 go." 
 
 Suddenly she became frightened at what she had done, 
 and wanted to restore the ring to its place; and if she 
 had yielded immediately to this impulse, she could have 
 saved the situation. But again the devil tempted her.
 
 304 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " No," she said, " I've got it. I shall keep it. It 
 will be all right if I remain here. It's torture remain- 
 ing. But if I stay, I am safe." 
 
 So she stayed on. She leaned back in the chair, con- 
 tinued to hold her reconstructed emerald in her hand, 
 and stared intently at the little cupboard near the fire- 
 place, full of small bits of valuable china. She hoped, 
 in this way, to give the impression that she was entirely 
 unconscious of the proximity of that open safe with its 
 rich hoard of rare treasure. Certainly Sarah Bern- 
 hardt could not have acted the part better. Maude 
 Everard, for all her trembling heart, looked the image 
 of detached and guileless innocence. No human being 
 would have thought that she had stolen a rich, velvety 
 emerald, a " perfection " stone, and that it was repos- 
 ing peacefully in her coat pocket. 
 
 Certainly Tamar did not, when she returned to the 
 inner room. She returned, entirely transformed both 
 in bearing and in expression of countenance. She was 
 no longer a dreamy enthusiast caught by a mystic spell. 
 She was absolutely of this world now, material, practi- 
 cal, and jubilant over an excellent bit of business which 
 she had carried through in that brief interval. She 
 was chuckling a little, pleased with herself, and proud 
 to find her commercial capabilities by no means impaired 
 by temporary disuse, even as a violin player might re- 
 joice that his bow arm had lost none of its elasticity 
 after a period of inaction. 
 
 Thus tuned up to material consideration, she sud- 
 denly became aware that she had left the safe open. In 
 her concern and alarm she almost leapt towards it like a 
 tigress, and closed it with a bang. She was furious with 
 herself for her carelessness.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 305 
 
 " A thing I have never done before ! " she exclaimed 
 angrily. 
 
 If Bramfield had come in at that moment, he would 
 not have found Tamar looking beautiful. She looked 
 fiendish, with all her worst qualities of suspiciousness, 
 covetousness and meanness aroused to their fullest ex- 
 pression. 
 
 Maude Everard glanced at her and became terri- 
 bly alarmed, but made a valiant attempt to remain 
 calm and succeeded. She rose leisurely, almost list- 
 lessly. 
 
 " I think I'll be off now," she said with an innocent 
 smile. 
 
 " No, indeed, you won't," snapped Tamar. " Do 
 you imagine I should be such a fool as to let you go 
 without examining the safe? It was bad enough to 
 leave it open, but to let you go without making sure 
 that everything was intact no, thank you. I'm not 
 such a lunatic as that." 
 
 Her words struck terror into the girl's heart. She 
 would have sold her soul at that moment not to have 
 stolen that ring. But she was plucky enough to retain 
 her outward composure. She knew that calmness was 
 her best asset at such a crisis. And she tried to fortify 
 herself in the belief that this awful woman would not 
 find out her loss immediately. Afterwards she would, 
 of course. But surely not now. No, she would not be 
 likely to take out all the things from the very back of 
 the safe and count them. There was that barest 
 chance; and the girl built all her hopes on it, as with 
 lynx eyes she watched T. Scott begin that torturing 
 process of examination. It is possible that her quiet 
 demeanour impressed Tamar favourably, for though
 
 306 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 there was a settled grimness on her face, she turned to 
 the girl and said, mildly enough : 
 
 " I know everything in this safe. As an astronomer 
 knows his stars, so I know my jewels." 
 
 The girl's heart stood still from renewed fright. If 
 she had dared, she would have confessed then and there, 
 flung down the stolen ring suddenly, and made a dash 
 from the danger zone before T. Scott could have de- 
 tained her. But she had not the power. She was be- 
 coming paralysed from fear. All she could do, was to 
 smile a sickly smile, watch her torturer and hope 
 against hope. 
 
 Tamar took her time. She went over every treasure 
 carefully and deliberately, and nodded her head repeat- 
 edly, as if to signify her satisfaction that so far she 
 had found all her possessions undisturbed. She even 
 glanced reassuringly at her victim and said, with some 
 sort of an attempt at sulky apology and explanation : 
 
 " You see, in my kind of business, one could not trust 
 even one's dearest friend if one owned such a doubt- 
 ful article." 
 
 She did not put her hand at the back of the upper 
 shelf. She passed on to the lower shelf. Then some 
 idea must have occurred to her, and she returned to the 
 upper shelf. She paused, rummaged, sorted, and nod- 
 ded again. The girl gave a sigh of relief. She dared 
 to believe that the situation was saved. But she was 
 mistaken. She had been misled by that last nod. 
 
 Tamar turned away from the safe, and without look- 
 ing up or uttering a word of warning as to her inten- 
 tions, strolled casually towards the telephone. There 
 she paused. 
 
 " I am sending for the police," she said slowly. " I
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 307 
 
 miss an emerald ring the valuable emerald ring that 
 I showed you." 
 
 She had already raised the receiver when the girl 
 caught her hand and intercepted her. 
 
 " Don't don't, I implore you," she cried. " I took 
 it -= I have it here here it is the temptation was 
 too great I couldn't resist it I don't know how I 
 could have done it it was an impulse indeed, it was 
 but it was such a chance and I need the money so 
 badly I have to get a hundred and fifty pounds some- 
 how and I've been counting on that emerald which 
 you say is reconstructed I stole it on impulse, and I 
 would have given worlds to have put it back at once 
 but couldn't I I implore you don't don't dis- 
 grace me have mercy on me here is the ring 
 you see, here it is take it and let me go don't 
 don't disgrace me." 
 
 She clutched at Tamar's hand, at her arm, at her 
 dress. In her agony of mind she knelt to her. 
 
 " Fool, worm," Tamar hissed out. " Did you sup- 
 pose I shouldn't know? Why should I have mercy on 
 you? What are you to me? What are your con- 
 temptible bridge debts to me? Why shouldn't I dis- 
 grace you? Get up. I don't want any one to kneel 
 to me. If you knelt to me a thousand years, it would 
 not make the least difference to me." 
 
 The girl got up and stood before Tamar in a mute 
 despair. No further words passed her lips, no tears 
 ran down her cheeks, no sobs escaped her. She had 
 made her appeal, and she knew she had failed, and noth- 
 ing remained for her except despair, humiliation, ex- 
 posure. She recognized Tamar's inexorableness as 
 something fixed and final.
 
 308 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 But the very intensity of her hopelessness, and her al- 
 most tragically swift acceptance of an intended unmer- 
 cifulness presented to Tamar a petition far more likely 
 to be granted than any further outburst of hysterical 
 pleading. She realized that this stranger who knew 
 nothing of her, had gauged her natural pitilessness and 
 felt that all effort against it was futile. The thought 
 gave Tamar pause. She did not quite like it. 
 
 Was she, then, so cruel ? Did she give the impression 
 of being entirely unreachable by human distress? The 
 girl, of course, ought to be disgraced, deserved to be 
 disgraced. But she had not definitely said that she was 
 going to disgrace her. She had only said that if she 
 went on kneeling a thousand years it would not make 
 any difference. 
 
 Nor would it. 
 
 What would make a difference was that she was 
 young and with her life before her and that she 
 had acted on impulse it was obvious that she was not 
 a professional thief, but a frivolous fool of a society 
 girl an odious type but young and with all the 
 appeal of youth about her suppose now it had been 
 Marion, or Dorothy, or Winifred or any of those young 
 things circling round her - and it had been a tempta- 
 tion Tamar herself by her own carelessness had 
 actually placed the temptation in the minx's way a 
 temptation and if one began to think about tempta- 
 tions well . . . 
 
 And suddenly a very curious thing happened. The 
 shop bell rang, and Tamar, having transfixed her vic- 
 tim with a glance, went to the door and found Inspector 
 Winifred Thornton, looking more imposing and official 
 than ever in her smart uniform.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 309 
 
 " Please stay here in the shop," Tamar said, with a 
 nod of welcome. " I'll be back in a moment." 
 
 But as she hurried to the inner room, the remem- 
 brance of her own great temptation in Winifred's 
 home, in the library, smote her like a blast. She re- 
 called how she had stolen the pearls, restored them, 
 stolen them again, put them back once more and 
 then fled because she could not trust herself. She 
 could not boast. 
 
 No, she could not boast. 
 
 " Go," she said to the girl in a voice that trembled. 
 " Go, before I repent. Be off with your reconstructed 
 emerald and don't dare show your face here again." 
 
 The girl raised her head with a jerk. Her eyes" 
 shone. The buoyancy of youth returned to her as if 
 by magic. And without even glancing at Tamar, she 
 fled instantly from the room, with the precipitancy of a 
 young animal suddenly released from the chain. But, 
 to her unspeakable horror, a policewoman was stationed 
 at the door barring the exit. The role of custodian of 
 the peace fitted Winifred to a nicety. No one in the 
 whole universe looked and was more suitable for the 
 position. 
 
 The girl uttered a low cry of alarm, and stood stock 
 stiU. 
 
 But Tamar who had followed her, said : 
 
 " You needn't be frightened. She hasn't come to ar- 
 rest you but to free you. Be off." 
 
 She escaped. 
 
 Winifred turned to Tamar immediately she had gone. 
 
 " Do tell me what it all means," she said. " I should 
 be so interested psychologically." 
 
 " I daresay you would," Tamar answered, but she
 
 310 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 gave no explanation; and Winifred never knew what 
 part she had unconsciously played in that little drama. 
 
 Two or three mornings after this incident, Tamar 
 received by post the little round lime box to which she 
 had taken such an absurd fancy. There was no mes- 
 sage enclosed in the packet, but none was needed to ex- 
 plain the significance of the gift. 
 
 " So the minx was grateful," mused Tamar. " Well, 
 she had her lesson in more ways than one. And I tor- 
 tured her. I tortured her well, with that long-drawn- 
 out searching of the safe. She must have suffered ago- 
 nies of uncertainty poor little wretch. I'm not sure, 
 not quite sure that I should have let her off, if Wini- 
 fred had not appeared at an opportune moment to 
 strengthen my sudden remembrance of my own tempta- 
 tion over those four pearls."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 TAMAR had occasion to go to Bradford to attend 
 an important auction sale, of which Bramfield, 
 ever watchful on her behalf, had notified her. Rupert 
 who was in town at the time, reminded her that Lalling- 
 ton was not far from Bradford, and charged her to go 
 and see his mother, who had been seized with a sudden 
 longing for her old home, and had abandoned Blooms- 
 bury for a little while. He was joining her soon, he 
 said but he had been feeling " fed up " with archaeology 
 and with his own attempts at writing, and was rather 
 wanting to get some definite war work to do in London, 
 something in the Censor's Office, he thought, or failing 
 that, something at the Red Cross, in the Department 
 for the Missing, which appealed to him specially. 
 
 " I could do that," he said rather pathetically, glanc- 
 ing at his disabled arm and leg. " I should be of some 
 use then in this old war which has come to stay." 
 
 " But you have done your part, more than done it," 
 Tamar said. 
 
 " Yes, but one wants to go on doing it in some sort of 
 crocky old way, if one can," he said with a smile. " I 
 thought I shouldn't want to. But some of the things 
 which have been happening lately have upset me tre- 
 mendously. That murder of Edith Cavell, for one. 
 And as the news from the Front comes in, sometimes 
 good, sometimes bad, I tell you I don't know how to 
 
 bear myself. I want to be everywhere, in France, in 
 
 311
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Flanders, at Kut, at Gallipoli anywhere so long as 
 I am in it." 
 
 There is no doubt that he had been feeling increas- 
 ingly his enforced inaction; and Tom's departure had 
 stirred him up and unsettled him. Dorothy's absence 
 also had added to his unrest. But he bore it quite un- 
 complainingly, and spoke to Tamar now with pride and 
 pleasure of the work she was doing in Belgium with her 
 Corps. 
 
 " If she doesn't get the Ordre de Leopold II, I refuse 
 to marry her when she wants me to," he said. " I've 
 told her that plainly. Meanwhile I must get some 
 things together for the one and only home, if we are 
 ever to have one. How about this Limoges enamel? 
 Wasn't that the plaque she admired so much ? " 
 
 " Yes," Tamar said. " But it isn't for sale, Mr. Ru- 
 pert. It is going to be my wedding gift to her when 
 the time comes." 
 
 His face flushed with pleasure. 
 
 " But I know you like it and prize it," he said. 
 " You said at the time you would part with it very re- 
 luctantly." 
 
 "Well, so I shall," she answered. "But all the 
 same, it's going to beautify that one and only home, 
 when the time comes." 
 
 It was remarkable how she had gradually identified 
 herself with the interests of the Thornton family. In 
 the course of her business life Tamar had visited homes 
 all over England, and no single individual, no groups 
 of people had ever meant anything to her. She had not 
 given anything of herself to them nor received anything 
 from them, probably because she had felt no need to give
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 313 
 
 or receive. But there comes a moment in the life of 
 every one, however aloof, when a heart-hunger asserts 
 itself and will not be denied. She must have been in 
 this condition when she went to Lallington and found 
 this family ready to like and annex her. If she had 
 brought them news of good fortune, and offered them 
 an interpretation of their father confirmed by his brief 
 comment written in the corner of the old family paper, 
 they had in exchange shown and handed to her hidden 
 treasure, the value of which they did not realize any 
 more than they had realized the worth of the precious 
 stones she had priced for them the treasure of new 
 interests, young upspringing companionship, trust, 
 confidence and the claims of friendship priceless gems 
 to those who have known something of the loneliness of 
 middle age. Very grateful did Tamar feel to the 
 Thorntons, one and all, and to Rupert specially, for his 
 silence which she never forgot. She thought of it now 
 when he asked her to go and see his mother. His words 
 echoed back to her: " Oh, it's nothing only a little 
 seed pearl of no value." 
 
 Since then, never for a moment had she felt uneasy, 
 nor at a disadvantage with him on account of his per- 
 sonal experience of her graspingness. There was some- 
 thing large and noble in his nature, a spaciousness of 
 understanding born of an idealism, which always re- 
 minded her of that young clergyman, Richard Forest, 
 whom she had known in the past, and who had lost his 
 life in saving the lives of others in a fire. Richard For- 
 est had always seemed to her as one set apart. Rupert 
 gave that same impression at times, and his interest in 
 human affairs was often tempered by vague probings
 
 314 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 and searchings for things that " met not the eye." An 
 instance of this tendency occurred before he left the 
 shop that day. He said to Tamar : 
 
 " I shall be curious to know what happens to you 
 mentally when you go to Marton Grange again. I 
 wonder whether you will have another definite conviction 
 that there are further precious stones which we Thorn- 
 tons have not been able to discover. It would be great 
 to have more treasure, of course, though we really don't 
 want more. But it would be positively thrilling if an- 
 other ' wireless ' were to come from my father to you 
 your spiritual kinship with him making it possible. 
 That's the point which interests me. I care more and 
 more about these subjects, and long to know more. Do 
 you care? You must, I think. You are very psychic 
 yourself." 
 
 " I have had moments, Mr. Rupert," she said dream- 
 ily, " but they have been rare. Such moments are rare. 
 They steal on one unawares like a thief in the night. 
 One cannot prepare for them. If they come, they come. 
 But I don't suppose I shall ever hold converse with your 
 father again. There is no reason why I should." 
 
 " There might be," he said. " When I read your 
 book, and note the name of any stone which you record 
 as being dear to a collector's heart, though not valuable 
 in any other sense, I often wonder whether you, by fo- 
 cussing on that thought, could put yourself deliberately 
 in the pathway of the wireless. Suppose, for instance, 
 you said: * Well, we have not found dematoid.' That 
 is one of the stones yqu mention." 
 
 Tamar smiled. She loved to know that Rupert knew 
 her book so thoroughly. Though she seldom spoke of 
 it, no author, living or dead, could ever have been more
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 315 
 
 proud and pleased than she was over an assurance of 
 appreciation. 
 
 . " But, you see, Mr. Rupert," she said, " I should have 
 had first to be convinced that dematoid, or essonite, 
 or chiastolite, were necessary to your father's pride 
 as a collector. He might have had any of them, of 
 course. But I should not know, for the thought of 
 them leaves me cold. But the flame-red spinel didn't. 
 Anything but. It was the intensity of my belief the 
 burning intensity of it which let that message come 
 through. Such a thing is not likely to occur again." 
 
 " Well, you will tell me exactly how } T OU get on, and 
 what feelings you had? " he asked. 
 
 She promised. 
 
 But his words and the thoughts they suggested 
 haunted her. On her way up to Bradford she found 
 herself " preparing for a moment " by enumerating the 
 interesting gems which Mr. Thornton might have had, 
 but which she did not remember to have found in his 
 collection. Even during the auction sale, when her at- 
 tention ought to have been entirely concentrated on her 
 own affairs, she had a lapse of watchfulness, because she 
 was saying to herself: 
 
 " Did lie by any chance have one of those sapphires 
 which change from a blue colour by daylight to a purple 
 by artificial light? " 
 
 She lost a beautiful bit of china by this aberration, 
 and was furious with herself, the auctioneer, the success- 
 ful bidder, Rupert, his father, and all the Thornton 
 family. She was so annoyed that she almost decided 
 not to trouble to go to Lallington. But after she had 
 secured some George II silver on which she had set her 
 mind, she recovered her temper; and a telegram of wel-
 
 316 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 come from Mrs. Thornton which, awaited her at the 
 hotel, made her content to carry out her original inten- 
 tion. When later she arrived at Lallington station, 
 she was glad that she had come, glad to see the moors 
 and the slopes with their belt of trees, and to feel the 
 impact of the clean, strong air. 
 
 The little yellow 'bus was waiting to take passengers 
 up to the village, but she let it go without her, for she 
 had the impulse to call at the Station Hotel and inquire 
 whether all was well with that soldier father in India 
 and that brisk little daughter who was helping her 
 mother so splendidly to run the business. Hetty Pass- 
 more knew her at once, whipped up her suit-case, and 
 had soon whipped in a tempting tea-tray with some con- 
 vincing Yorkshire buns. 
 
 " And what do you think ? " she said, as she poured 
 out the tea for Tamar. " Father is home safely. He's 
 in hospital recovering from enteric, in the Second Lon- 
 don General. Mother and I went up to see him, and 
 we all cried together. It was so jolly. He's awfully 
 weak and thin, but at least he is safe." 
 
 " I am glad," Tamar said, smiling at her. " Then 
 you'll soon be having him here to see how well you've 
 been looking after things in his absence." 
 
 " He pretends we can get on perfectly well without 
 him," she laughed. " A sort of wax martyrdom, I 
 think." 
 
 Mrs. Passmore looked in to see Tamar. 
 
 " So the rumour about the jewels was true, after all," 
 she said. " The Thorntons came into a large fortune." 
 
 " Did they? " T. Scott said innocently. 
 
 " It was such a surprise to every one," Mrs. Passmore 
 continued. "Every one thought Mr. Thornton was
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 317 
 
 only taken up with old bones and arrow-heads, and the 
 like." 
 
 " Indeed," said T. Scott guilelessly. 
 
 " Men are deceitful and no mistake," Mrs. Passmore 
 added. " You never know what they're up to. Always 
 hiding up something. Still, I'm not saying that this 
 particular bit of deceit wasn't innocent enough and 
 only a pleasant surprise for the family. I wouldn't 
 have minded it myself. And yet they do say that Mrs. 
 Thornton frets a good deal." 
 
 " Ah," said T. Scott vaguely. 
 
 " Think of it," said Mrs. Passmore, " pearls and dia- 
 monds and rubies and emeralds, and every jewel under 
 the sun, and not so much as a little seed-pearl ever seen 
 on Miss Winifred or Miss Marion." 
 
 " Very astonishing," remarked T. Scott, with in- 
 creased woodenness. " People are astonishing." 
 
 And that was her only comment. She laughed si- 
 lently to think that any one should attempt the hopeless 
 task of drawing T. Scott. No human being existed 
 who could have surprised Tamar's fortress of cautious- 
 ness. The Government ought to have commandeered 
 her for the Secret Service. 
 
 Hetty Passmore, who was going to see some friends 
 in the village, accompanied her up the hill. They lin- 
 gered at the bridge, noted the turbulence of the rushing 
 river swollen by recent rains, and then mounted the hill 
 slowly. Five or six dogs went with them, for Hetty 
 always had a retinue of collies, three of her own and two 
 neighbours who invariably claimed the right to share 
 her joyous companionship. They leapt round her at 
 intervals and nearly knocked her down, a proceeding 
 she appeared to enjoy thoroughly.
 
 318 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 It was getting dark, and one by one the stars were 
 declaring themselves. Tamar and her companion 
 stopped to look at them, and to watch the outline of the 
 moors grow dimmer and gradually merge into the mys- 
 tery of the fading light. The life of the little moun- 
 tain village was over for the day. No flocks of sheep, 
 no herds of cattle were passing down the cobbled street. 
 At the blacksmith's, where they paused to take breath, 
 all was silence, and no children were playing round the 
 old pump in the square. The lights in the cottages 
 were carefully screened, the Defence of the Realm re- 
 quiring darkness even in this out-of-the-way place. 
 
 Tamar felt a sense of desolation creeping over her. 
 She wondered why she had come. Legends of the coun- 
 try instilled into her by the Thorntons recurred to her. 
 She almost expected to feel Barguest, the soft-footed 
 hound, brush against her. She thought that if he did, 
 her hair, like that of the Passmores' old serving-man, 
 would certainly stand on end and never come down for 
 three whole days. Or was she perhaps going to see the 
 old monk on his way to Marton Grange, where he would 
 stand and look in through the Norman window, asking 
 silently for admittance? And stay was it not on 
 this very spot that she had seen in her dream that tall 
 man, with a thin face, and lantern- jawed, who had sud- 
 denly come round the corner by the blacksmith's forge 
 and had said to her with a slight stutter : 
 
 " I've been expecting you to come. I want to show 
 you my spinels, especially my flame-red spinel." 
 
 Was she going to see him now? She felt as if she 
 were. And again she began " preparing for a mo- 
 ment " by speculating on the stones he might have had 
 in his collection, but which had not been found. How
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 about a cinnamon-brown sphene, for instance? No, 
 not very likely. Or a dematoid, after all? Or an axi- 
 nite? No, not very likely, either. Oh . . . 
 
 Hetty Passmore's voice recalled her from the land of 
 surmise. 
 
 " Here you are at the turning for Marton Grange," 
 she said. " You can't miss it now. Good-night." 
 
 It was evident that Mrs. Thornton had been fretting, 
 Tamar thought that she was probably anxious about 
 Tom, who for some weeks now had been at the Front. 
 There were traces of sadness on her face, and in her 
 eye signs of painful searching for, straining after, some- 
 thing beyond her power of vision But as the evening' 
 wore on, she brightened up, and Knitted busily as usual, 
 whilst Tamar, in an arm-chair drawn up to the cosy fire, 
 related her experiences in Holland; told her about the 
 kind Dutch and their care of the children those lit- 
 tle strangers within their gates and recounted all the 
 tales she could remember of spies and escaped prisoners 
 and smuggling. And where she could not remember she 
 invented. She ended up with a spirited account of the 
 fashionable young woman who stole the ring and was 
 terrified when she saw Winifred unconsciously barring 
 her exit from the shop. 
 
 This bit of news amused Mrs. Thornton more than 
 anything. 
 
 " Winifred is a little terrifying sometimes even out 
 of uniform," she laughed. " But in uniform well, I 
 think even Tom is impressed ! " 
 
 She had received a letter from Winifred that morn- 
 ning saying that she had been promoted to the rank 
 of inspector, and giving the good news that the Women
 
 320 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Police Service had definitely been appointed by the 
 Ministry of Munitions to act as guards for certain 
 factories. 
 
 " This is only one step," she wrote, " but it will lead 
 to others, and we are sure that work will open out for 
 us in many directions. I am to go to a factory where 
 several thousand women are employed in the manufac- 
 ture and disposal of the most dangerous explosive de- 
 manded by the war." 
 
 She had heard from Tom also, who said that he was 
 all right, having the time of his life and making an inti- 
 mate acquaintance with " Archie." 
 
 She was happy in her children and proud of what 
 they were doing one of those thousands and thou- 
 sands of mothers who sent out their dearest with a bless- 
 ing, to serve, to suffer, to return maimed or not to 
 return. 
 
 It was nearly midnight when they went to bed. Mrs. 
 Thornton took Tamar to her room. 
 
 " It was kind of you to come," she said. " You've 
 done me good. You always do me good." 
 
 " Isn't it rather solitary for you here alone? " Tamar 
 asked kindly. 
 
 " If it is a little desolate at times, it is my own fault," 
 she answered. " I wanted to come. 
 
 " The past called me," she went on. " Rupert did 
 not wish to leave me, but I urged him to go to London. 
 He longs for Dorothy, I know, though he says very little 
 about his longing. His patience and chivalry always 
 touch me. He is very chivalrous." 
 
 Tamar nodded thinking of the little seed pearl. 
 
 " He frets sometimes that he cannot take any active 
 part in the war," Mrs. Thornton continued. " He did
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 not at first when he returned. He was too ill. But 
 now that he is better, something is stirring in him again. 
 Your friend from Holland fired him, as she fired all of 
 us that night. And he could not forget the poor young 
 Belgian woman. Nor could I. For days after, he kept 
 on saying how terrible it would be if such a fate should 
 overtake our country. And Tom's departure affected 
 him greatly. He longed to go also. And I think he 
 has been too much taken up with his father's book 
 yes, and with haunting thoughts of his father. I don't 
 want that for him. So I sent him away." 
 
 She paused. 
 
 ** The past is not for the young," she said. " The 
 future is for them. But to the old, the past speaks 
 sometimes often with a voice which cannot be 
 silenced which we do not want to be silenced. Good- 
 night, dear friend. Your presence is a comfort to me. 
 I shall sleep well tonight." 
 
 Tamar stood for a long time in thought after she had 
 gone. She wondered at what stage in a person's life 
 the past began to claim more than the future promised. 
 She looked back over her own life, and realized that 
 events and experiences which had made a profound im- 
 pression on her at the time, had quickly lost their im- 
 port for her. Would they regain their ascendancy, 
 and when? When she was fifty? No, probably not, 
 because at middle-age people were often able to review 
 the past years critically, dispassionately, and with an 
 aloofness and independence which inferred freedom from 
 all bondage of thought. No, not at fifty. Well, at 
 sixty, say? Ten years for the future to have failed in 
 promise, and the present to have lost its hold and then 
 a slow, silent, secret stealing back to the things of the
 
 322 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 past, which by reason of the distant vision look on all 
 the vague outlined beauties of a Promised Land. Per- 
 haps not even at sixty. 
 
 She laughed at herself. Absurd to suppose that this 
 stealing back could be dated, like those bonbonnieres 
 and silver she had secured at the Bradford auction sale. 
 It depended on temperament, on one's power of long- 
 ing, on the strength of one's regrets, on the thousand 
 and one differentiations of mind and brain and on 
 one's arteries. That was what Bramfield was always 
 speaking of people's age depending on the condition 
 of their arteries. Take Bramfield, now. He was nearly 
 sixty. He had not begun to live in the past, nor to 
 want it in any way. The present engrossed him and the 
 future still beckoned to him, and would beckon for a 
 long time. But then, he was of an exceptional nature, 
 so bright and eager almost boyish in his impetuous- 
 ness. 
 
 Never had she been worthy of him. Never could she 
 be worthy. But she said to herself that in her own way 
 she loved him dearly, always more and more, not less, 
 and that life without him would be unthinkable. If she 
 were to lose him, would she then live in the past, no 
 matter what her age, and pine for the joys out of her 
 reach and the chances on which she had for so many 
 years turned her back? In her eyes, then, as in Mrs. 
 Thornton's now, would there be a searchlight, searching 
 for something hidden in the mystery of death? 
 
 These thoughts and the questions they raised, passed 
 from her mind and gave way to memories of the first 
 night she had spent in Marton Grange. Once more she 
 saw before her that beautiful collection of precious 
 stones, stowed away in such curious hiding-places.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 323 
 
 Once more those pearls she had coveted and nearly 
 stolen, danced before her eyes. Once more the flame- 
 red spinel shone for her like a bit of burning coal. 
 And against all inclinations, for she was deadly tired, 
 her mind reverted to her talk with Rupert, and she fell 
 a-wondering afresh what other stones a passionate lover 
 of gems might possibly have had in his collection. 
 
 " Not dematoid, not axinite, not . . ." 
 
 She fell asleep from sheer fatigue. 
 
 She awoke after an hour or two of entire oblivion; 
 but the obsession renewed itself the moment she awoke 
 and left her no peace. Yet no conviction forced itself 
 on her as before. Vague surmises and conjectures 
 alone presented themselves ; but no guiding message was 
 borne to her from the unseen world. Her own words 
 to Rupert echoed back to her : 
 
 " Such moments are rare. If they come, they come. 
 One cannot prepare for them." 
 
 She tried to rivet her thoughts elsewhere. She tried 
 to think of Bramfield, of Bruce, of Gertrude Linton, of 
 her last successful deal, of a crucifix which she might be 
 able to fake up into Spanish seventeenth century. 
 
 But in vain. And at last, because she could not help 
 herself, she threw on her coat and stole downstairs to 
 the library. 
 
 There was not a sound to be heard in the house, ex- 
 cept the ticking of the old hall clock. Outside, too, 
 there was no sound. It was a calm, clear, star-jewelled 
 night. Tamar looked through the window at the stars. 
 Myriads of them there seemed, and how extraordinarily 
 beautiful! Shimmering gem-stones by the myriad. 
 Was that all she had come down to see? What exactly
 
 324 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 had she come down for? Yet now here, a vision of 
 those luscious sea-gems again rose before her, and she 
 hungered for them as she hungered for them when her 
 enchanted eyes first beheld them. 
 
 Supposing she were to find something entrancingly 
 beautiful now an emerald of a specially fine velvet, 
 superb in itself and of great value would she want to 
 steal it in the silence and safety of the night, the stars 
 alone as witnesses of her act? Perhaps she would. 
 She could not say for certain she would not, not even 
 after her true repentance and the acute realization of 
 her shame. But she hoped she would not even be 
 tempted. How splendid if she could say to Bramfield, 
 who loved to know when she was at her best : 
 
 " Bramfield, I found a priceless emerald, secretly, in 
 the silence of the night, and with no witnesses except the 
 stars. And this time my only feeling was that of joy 
 over its exceeding beauty. I had no impulse to steal 
 it." 
 
 But it was not likely that she would be put to the test. 
 There was nothing to be tempted over. Of that she felt 
 sure. She would not even search for treasure. If 
 there had been anything, she would have received tidings 
 of it from her comrade in spirit and sensed it. He 
 had guided her to the spinels. He had guided Rupert 
 to the old family document. He had probably yielded 
 up the whole of his collection, and he had certainly 
 yielded up the story of his soul. 
 
 There was no reason why she should have come, and 
 no reason why she should stay; and yet she lingered, 
 unable to leave. She sank into the armchair in the cor- 
 ner formerly occupied by the pile of papers and manu- 
 scripts under which she had found the old Bible-box.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 325 
 
 The pile had gone. The Bible-box had also gone. But 
 otherwise the room had not changed in aspect, nor had 
 the feeling in the room changed. Tamar could imagine 
 Mr. Thornton stealing into his den by night, making 
 sure that he had locked the door, taking out one of 
 those deceitful dummy volumes, smiling furtively as he 
 did so, and placing it tenderly on his desk. Now he 
 had opened it. And now he was putting the stones one 
 by one on the table and revelling in their loveliness. 
 Which of them had been his favourite? She would like 
 to have known that. So real was the scene to her, that 
 she nearly called out : 
 
 " Tell me which was your favourite." 
 
 She thought it was strange that he had left no record 
 of his passion, and that not even a disjointed reference 
 to it had been found, except in that old family paper. 
 How had he been able to refrain from writing down some 
 of the emotions which must have stirred him? Secretive 
 though she was, she could not have refrained. She had 
 to write that book of hers. She remembered now the 
 intense relief she experienced when she set about doing 
 it she, too, who had not the habit of writing. Well, 
 perhaps one day Rupert would find some stray list or 
 memorandum somewhere, and then they might learn 
 which had been his favourite gem. 
 
 But hush what was that sound that faint sound 
 in the stillness of the night? 
 
 She started, tense and alert. She glanced towards 
 the window where the old monk was supposed to stand 
 and look in. Had he left his post? Was he entering 
 the house? No, surely not. Something was stirring 
 some one was stirring. There were soft footsteps 
 coming nearer and nearer. She could hear them now.
 
 326 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Her heart stood still. There was a creaking on the 
 stairs. There was a traversing of the hall. There 
 was a pausing on the threshold. There was a gentle 
 fumbling at the door-handle. 
 
 Mrs. Thornton entered. 
 
 Tamar did not stir, could not stir. If she had to 
 account for her presence there, all she could say, would 
 be that she could not account for it and it would be 
 the truth. Then instantly it was borne in on her that 
 there was no need to fear. Mrs. Thornton was walking 
 in her sleep yes, and weeping. Tamar heard the sobs 
 amid the heavy breathing. 
 
 Like a troubled spirit she came, like a restless spirit 
 she wandered around the room, and like a spirit she van- 
 ished. Had she come to her husband's Holy of Holies 
 to find treasure, not pearls nor rubies nor any precious 
 stones, but solace for memories, regrets, longings, lost 
 chances hidden treasure seldom found ? 
 
 The next morning Tamar told Mrs. Thornton that 
 she had not thought Marion looking well the last time 
 she saw her at the St. Ursula Military Hospital, that 
 Winifred, in spite of her elevation to the rank of In- 
 spector, had complained of violent neuralgia, and that 
 Rupert had said that he had entirely lost his appe- 
 tite. 
 
 " He rather looked like it," Tamar said, closing her 
 eyes, her usual trick when she was deceiving any one. 
 " He is not fit for much war work yet, I should judge." 
 
 " Not taking his food," exclaimed Mrs. Thornton, in 
 immediate concern. " That's very bad. The boy needs 
 building up the whole time. And Winifred suffering 
 from neuralgia just when she is going off to that muni-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 327 
 
 tions factory, and Marion not herself either. Why did 
 you not tell me last night, when we were speaking of 
 them?" 
 
 " You mothers fret over nothing," Tamar said guile- 
 lessly. " I did not like to give you a restless night." 
 
 " I had that, in any case," Mrs. Thornton said. And 
 a shadow came over her face. For a moment she was 
 silent. 
 
 " But this decides me," she went on. " I shall return 
 to London with you today." 
 
 " I should not hurry off if I were you," Tamar said. 
 " There's no need for that. I am afraid I have made 
 you unduly anxious. Stay at least a few more days." 
 
 She smiled inwardly as she spoke. She knew some- 
 thing about the value of opposition craftily and care- 
 fully applied. 
 
 " I shouldn't dream of it," Mrs. Thornton said, bus- 
 tling up. " I'll go today. I cannot stay away when 
 the children are ailing. It is then that they need me. 
 We will have a motor and drive over the moors to Brad- 
 ford and get the express from there. It is a lovely 
 morning for a run, and you would enjoy it. I will tele- 
 phone at once to the Station Hotel." 
 
 Tamar chuckled. She was as pleased with the results 
 of her romancing as if she had concluded an admirable 
 bit of business cheating. If it had not succeeded, she 
 would have tried something else. She was not intend- 
 ing to leave Mrs. Thornton at Marton Grange to wan- 
 der about in the night grieving, holding her hands out to 
 the past sobbing her heart out unable to rest, 
 even in her sleep. That was not to be borne. And the 
 children must be /told. They must not allow it.
 
 328 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Tamar never forgot that drive. She was not one of 
 Nature's children, but that morning Nature, as if deter- 
 mined to win the alien who had ever been indifferent to 
 her, put forth all her charms to attract and thrill and 
 hold. 
 
 To the clouds she said : 
 
 " Show her the glory of your changing lights." 
 
 To the sun she said : 
 
 " Pour all your wealth of golden warmth on her." 
 
 To the air of the wild moorland she said : 
 
 " Caress her first, encircle her lovingly so that she 
 may know you to be a friend, and then if you wish, put 
 forth your strength and let her feel the wild impact and 
 rush of your breath." 
 
 To the moors she said: 
 
 " Show her purple amethysts such as she has never 
 seen before." 
 
 To the pasture uplands she said : 
 
 " Let her see our fields of fresh emeralds glittering in 
 the sun." 
 
 To the mountain streams she said : 
 
 " Leap joyously, dear children, show her in what glad 
 fashion the mountain streams dance down from the 
 fells to greet the river." 
 
 And to the fells she said : 
 
 " Stand out in all your rugged grandeur. Be to her 
 as symbols of greatness, free from the trammels of petty 
 concerns below." 
 
 They raced over the wild moorland, always higher and 
 higher, past grim boulders and mountain sheep and 
 lonely shepherds' huts, past marshes sending out their 
 salt-laden breath, and peewits circling overhead, and
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 329 
 
 here and there a stunted thorn tree which spoke of con- 
 tests with the blast. Down dipped they now to the 
 river, and passed through wondrous woods of many 
 tints of green, and pastures where the cows were graz- 
 ing and sweet villages sheltering in the dale ; and once 
 more gladly gained they the moors and came into the 
 liberating joy of the wider spaces. And on and ever 
 on they sped, until the glories of moor and fell and 
 green slopes and smiling valley with its winding silver 
 river were left far behind, and Nature had waved them 
 her last good-bye.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 TAMAR had been faithful to Marion's hospital. 
 With the exception of the weeks she had been in 
 Holland, she went regularly to see her friend Seymour, 
 always taking something from her collection to show 
 him, once a very beautiful alexandrite, once an interest- 
 ting tin stone, and on other occasions several curious 
 tourmalines and fine Egyptian peridots of good colour. 
 Before he finally left St. Ursula's, she took him to Mr. 
 Grierson, the lapidary, and Seymour's latest history 
 was that he became a gem-cutter. She had made other 
 friends in the ward, and news of her kindness to the 
 men having reached the C.O., she was given a permit 
 which was renewed from time to time, and thus became 
 practically permanent. The ward had now no terror 
 for her. No longer did she need to linger on the thresh- 
 old and summon up courage to face the beds of sickness. 
 
 " Not that I shall ever like to be with ill people, Ma- 
 rion," she said sometimes with great surliness. " No 
 * churn up ' could ever produce that change in me." 
 
 Marion only laughed. She knew Tamar's ways by 
 this time. 
 
 As for the wounded soldiers, the churn up had long 
 ago accustomed them to the changes going on in 
 Blighty, and they had ceased to be astonished at what 
 the women were doing in this particular hospital or 
 anywhere. There was now no look of wonder on their 
 faces when on arriving, they found women stretcher- 
 bearers waiting for them. The novelty of having 
 
 330
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 331 
 
 women doctors to look after them and operate on them 
 was no longer a subject of discussion, nor a cause for 
 surprise, indignation or amusement. The story of the 
 sergeant-major who, after weeks of sustained sulkiness 
 and hostility, suddenly capitulated and on leaving wrote 
 a handsome tribute to the care he had received and a 
 handsome apologia for his ungraciousness, was like a 
 legend of far-off days. If there was any talk now about 
 women's new activities in all directions, it was chiefly 
 confined to irritated speculation as to whether the 
 women would be ousting men from their jobs. And in 
 many cases it was entirely a dog-in-the-manger spirit 
 that roused and encouraged this anxiety, for numbers 
 of the men were always declaring that they did not in- 
 tend to go back to their pre-war work. 
 
 " Catch me sitting in a bank all day ! " said Private 
 Greville, a bank clerk. Yet he was one of the most 
 eloquent speakers on the subject of women depriving 
 men of their work in banks and business houses. 
 
 There was always a good deal of talk about the 
 labour outlook, labour unrest, labour intentions and 
 labour triumph. In Ward Z, Private Jones, a huge 
 miner, a Yorkshireman, used to stand before the fire, as 
 soon as he could stand, wave his arms about, and in a 
 voice which could have reached to the uttermost ends 
 of the earth, always finished up with: 
 
 " / tell you, boys, the world is ours. The people are 
 coining to stay." 
 
 There was, of course, endless talk about the delin- 
 quencies of the War Office and no wonder. The de- 
 lay in receiving payment, the inaccuracy of the amounts 
 eventually received, the Herculean difficulties to be over- 
 come before the corrections took place, if ever, were
 
 332 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 favourite subjects which never failed to rouse the meek- 
 est, the most patient. Some were indignant, some re- 
 signedly amused, others bitter. 
 
 " So this is all a grateful Government can do for me 
 insult me and cheat me," said Private Black, an en- 
 gine-driver, who had had really monstrous trouble over 
 his pay. " Eleven shillings debit, when it ought to be 
 four pounds three shillings credit. It makes a fellow 
 downright mad. Now, mate, can you understand this 
 statement? " 
 
 No one could. Probably no one was intended to. 
 The brain of the most distinguished Senior Wrangler 
 would have been baffled by the problem and the figures. 
 
 There was intermittent discussion about the war, but 
 not nearly so much as one would have expected from the 
 people who had actually been taking part in it. Now 
 and again there rose up some one who was interested in 
 it as a whole, and was able to take a comprehensive sur- 
 vey of all the operations in all the centres. Private 
 Smith was of this ilk. He was a compositor, keen, en- 
 thusiastic and of informed mind. But for the most 
 part, the men spoke of the work of their batteries or 
 companies ; and the destinies of nations concerned them 
 not at all. Impersonal debate nearly always drifted 
 into personal narration and reminiscence. When first 
 men came from the Front, it was the news of the bat- 
 talion that was wanted before the news of the war 
 human and natural enough, in all conscience. 
 
 " Well, how's old Fritz ? " was one of the questions 
 after more important topics had been dealt with. 
 
 " Oh, Fritz is being beaten, and he knows it," was the 
 usual answer at first. 
 
 But later that was not the answer. It was :
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 333 
 
 " Fritz will take a devil of beating, but we'll do it yet, 
 of course." 
 
 Of course. There was no doubt about that ; but the 
 time limit which started by being a few weeks, had 
 stretched to another Christmas, another six months, an- 
 other year, another two years any old time. 
 
 The3 T discussed their chances of being " boarded," 
 and if discharged, their prospects. Was the country 
 going to look after them properly, or cheese-pare them, 
 or neglect them altogether, as in all previous wars, in- 
 cluding the South African war? Private Johnson, in 
 civil life a plumber's mate, was never tired of asking this 
 question. 
 
 " No, sonnie," said Corporal Jenkins. " No fear of 
 that. Times are changed. They've had to change, or 
 the public would know the reason why. You'll get your 
 pension right enough in ten years or so. Or perhaps 
 they'll be offering you a place in the Government at five 
 thousand a year." 
 
 " I'll take it," said Johnson, with a wink. " Perhaps 
 I'd do just as well as some of those blokes there." 
 
 " In that case I shall certainly emigrate to Austra- 
 lia," said Rifleman White. " It would be safer there. 
 Or Nova Scotia. What about prospects there, Mc- 
 Intyre ? Any opening in the diving line for me there ? " 
 
 Mclntyre, who was a diver by profession and had a 
 great flow of words, then held forth on the superiority 
 of the Colonies to the Mother Country. Chances for 
 every one, and a life worth living. Canada was the 
 place to go to, not Australia. A man would be a fool 
 to go to Australia when he could go to Canada. Sap- 
 per Dyson, a mighty Australian, of few words but of 
 fierce looks, said a man was a fool to go to Canada when
 
 334 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 he could go to Australia. And a New Zealander, Pri- 
 vate Hannay, who had lost a leg to which he always al- 
 luded affectionately as " dear old Polly," said that a 
 man was a fool to go to Australia or Canada when he 
 could go to such a beautiful and glorious land as New 
 Zealand. 
 
 *' The pick of the world, the pick of the world," he 
 said. " That's what dear old Polly used to say, and I 
 agreed with her." 
 
 " Hoxton's the best place of them all," said a Hoxton 
 man. " Good old Blighty for me. You know where 
 you are here." 
 
 " Yes, by God," thundered out Driver Joyce, who was 
 subject to attacks of Socialist rage " you know where 
 you are and who you are the under-dog." 
 
 " Steady, steady, old chap," said Private Grant. 
 "You'll lose your other eye if you're not careful. 
 Didn't the doctor tell you to keep quiet and peaceful? 
 Here, Nurse, this man wants a drink." 
 
 But emigration was in the air all the time. The pres- 
 ence of the Colonials of course fostered it. And the 
 Englishmen made many inquiries about conditions, espe- 
 cially from those who had not been born there, but had 
 themselves emigrated, and were therefore in a better 
 position to compare the disadvantages of the old coun- 
 try with those of the new. Numbers of the young men 
 wanted to leave England. When the Boche had been 
 put in his right place again, and Blighty had settled 
 down to sleep once more, she could surely be left to look 
 after herself. Yes the new world for them. 
 
 There was not much sentiment of patriotism amongst 
 them, 
 
 " Patriotism," said Rifleman Jenkins, " is something
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 335 
 
 for the newspaper chaps to write columns about. I tell 
 you, the words * For King and Country ' make me 
 tired." 
 
 Blighty as a land had to be defended at all costs be- 
 cause it contained their houses. That was all. The 
 glory and grandeur of the British Empire did not cap- 
 ture their imaginations. They were only mildly inter- 
 ested when Personages came to see them. Considering 
 that snobbery is deeply implanted in the British breast, 
 it was interesting to notice how little they really cared. 
 Many of them would far rather have welcomed the ed- 
 itor of John Bull, or had the gramophone repaired, or 
 been presented with half a dozen new records of the very 
 latest popular music-hall songs. 
 
 Great critics were they of the performances they wit- 
 nessed in their own entertainment room, or at the thea- 
 tres or music halls to which they were taken. They had 
 learnt to expect the best and get it. If by chance 
 they didn't get it, they knew and so did every one 
 else too ! 
 
 Sapper Harrison was a great imitator of the artists. 
 He took them off to a nicety. 
 
 "Like to hear me do a George Robey turn?" he 
 would say. " I'm a genius, I am. Like to hear me take 
 that high note that woman took? Well, you lift your- 
 self up on your toes if you've got any left like this 
 
 and if your jaw's not been blown away, you make a 
 face rather like this and then, here goes ! " 
 
 They took off every one that came into their horizon 
 
 doctors, nurses, sisters, chaplain, masseuses, librari- 
 ans, ward visitors their whole hospital. Their fun 
 and wit were often directed against them, but never 
 their malice. And when they knew that they were go-
 
 336 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 ing to be bored, they retired into their sheets, as into a 
 funk-hole, with great promptitude. If not prompt 
 enough, they bore their ordeal with a chivalry which 
 might well have been imitated by rank and fashion. 
 
 They were amazingly modest over their own achieve- 
 ments. Weeks went by before any one knew, for in- 
 stance, that quiet little Corporal Dean had got the Mili- 
 tary Medal for conspicuous bravery. 
 
 " Don't know what I did for it," he said, blushing 
 violently. " The other fellow with me ought to have 
 had it instead." 
 
 Now and again some one would brag a little, or a 
 lot. Private Dawson had tendencies in this direction, 
 but his audience was silent or dwindled away. 
 
 Strikers they had no use for. 
 
 " Send them all ' over the top,' that'll settle them one 
 way or another," said Private Green grimly. " That'll 
 speed them up quick enough." 
 
 They did not speak much of their sufferings which 
 they bore so bravely. They went up to their opera- 
 tions with an unconcern which was both interesting and 
 touching. They called it always, " Going up to see the 
 pictures." 
 
 " Sha'n't want my Boxing News for a day or two," 
 said Private Wallace, who was a boxer by profession. 
 '" Going 1 up to see the pictures for the fifth time." 
 
 As for the fighting, they were all agreed that it was 
 not fighting but rank murder. But once out of it, it 
 did not seem to trouble them much. Did they dream of 
 it? No, not much. Now and then they dreamed they 
 were going " over the top." Now and then the cry of 
 a fallen comrade woke them. Now and then a vision 
 of the horrors they had passed through rose before
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 337 
 
 them. But on the whole, a merciful power of forgetting 
 was vouchsafed to them; and appalling details which 
 might well have haunted them by day and by night, 
 slipped into the background of memory, as if by divine 
 dispensation. 
 
 There were some who did not hold forth on any sub- 
 ject whatsoever, neither racing nor emigration, nor so- 
 cialism, nor even the ways of the War Office. Corporal 
 Brown was one of them. He had never been known to 
 take part in any discussion; but once he did look up 
 from his book when conscientious objectors were being 
 frizzled alive, and said: 
 
 " I sometimes think the genuine ones amongst them 
 have had the hardest time of us all, boys. They have 
 stood for an idea and a right one, and for it they have 
 been 'despised and rejected of men' like that other 
 Reformer we know of." 
 
 " Yes, mate, that's all very well," said Private Jack- 
 son, who hated the conscientious objectors far worse 
 than the Germans, " but we've got to defend their homes 
 and people for them, and lose our limbs for those blight- 
 ers. That's the way I look at it." 
 
 " Yes, it does come to that, I admit," Corporal Brown 
 said. " But somebody must stand up for an idea. I 
 should myself hate to be one of the conscientious ob- 
 jectors, but I have a respect for some of them." 
 
 Private Jackson put his two fingers to his head as if 
 to intimate that Corporal Brown's brain was out of 
 order; and Corporal Brown retired to his book. 
 
 There were many men, who, like Corporal Brown, did 
 not speak much, but read a good deal. The outside 
 world continues to suppose that wounded soldiers want 
 only the stories of Nat Gould, or John Bull, for their
 
 338 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 weekly paper. But, although this was true enough of 
 quite a number of men at St. Ursula's, there were al- 
 ways scores of readers who were only too glad to have 
 the chance of getting hold of good books and reading 
 up the subjects in which they were interested. They 
 were given exactly what they wanted. If they wanted 
 a book on wireless telegraphy, they got it. If they 
 wanted a book on motor mechanism or labour problems, 
 or electrical engineering, or metallurgy, or history, 
 they got it. Or if they asked for travel, or adventure, 
 or detective stories, or love romances, they got them. 
 The Times Liter ary Supplement was at their disposal 
 equally with Tit-Bits. 
 
 Private Seymour, as we know, cared only to read 
 about precious stones. Private Clarke spent all his 
 time studying a book on Sheffield Plate and copying the 
 drawings. Corporal Hunt loved to read about musical 
 composers, and asked for a Life of Chopin the very day 
 he died. Corporal Banks adored roses and was made 
 divinely happy with books on their culture. Private 
 Gifford, a cook's mate, a boy of eighteen, with as bright 
 a face as one could see anywhere, literally devoured 
 good books and only cared for the best. He discussed 
 them, too, with an enthusiasm which was very refresh- 
 ing, and was always recommending them to his com- 
 rades. 
 
 *' I say, old chap, here's a stunning book," he was al- 
 ways saying. " You'd better read it whilst you can get 
 it." 
 
 This enthusiasm amazed Gunner Grant, who boasted 
 that he never read a book through in his life and never 
 meant to. When he went down to the Recreation Room 
 and saw all the books on the shelves, he said :
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Good Lord, do the boys have to read all these 
 God help them ! " 
 
 There were others, like Gunner Grant, who had never 
 before waded through a book, but whilst lying ill had 
 acquired the habit of reading " to pass the time away." 
 To many of these lads, books became even as a newly- 
 discovered country, full of possibilities hitherto un- 
 dreamed of. Private Enfield was one of these explor- 
 ers. His surprise and joy could only have been equalled 
 by that of the first readers of printed books in the Mid- 
 dle Ages. 
 
 As for Sergeant Williams, he had always thought 
 that a life without books was not worth living. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " at the Front I wrote to all my 
 friends, and got them to send me books for my battalion. 
 I planned it out that if every man carried one book 
 when we moved on, we could have a library of a thou- 
 sand volumes at our disposal. I was getting on nicely 
 with my scheme when I got a Blighty wound ! " 
 
 Stretcher-bearer Gordon had a story to tell about a 
 ruined cottage near Guillemont, where, carefully put 
 away on a rafter, he found one book and a piece of 
 paper with the words : 
 
 " Carefully preserved by a lover of books for another 
 lover of books." 
 
 Sapper Berridge, a tin-plater in civil life, was exceed- 
 ingly funny about books. Like many other people 
 about other things, he judged their worth by their 
 money value. 
 
 " I'm tired of a sevenpenny book," he said. " I'll 
 try a shilling one today. I expect that'll be better, 
 won't it?"
 
 340 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Or he would say : 
 
 " I don't think much of that one shilling story. I'll 
 try one of them six-shilling ones. It ought to be good 
 at that money, oughtn't it ? " 
 
 Private Nash, who had been buried for two days, and 
 was suffering very exceptionally badly from shell shock 
 and had lost his speech, always wrote down the names 
 of the books he wanted generally on Egyptology. 
 But his nerves were all to bits, and he trembled a good 
 deal and could not concentrate for long. And he was 
 terribly upset at having lost his mother. The boys 
 were very fond of their mothers. One heard constantly 
 the phrase: 
 
 " My mother has been a good mother to me" 
 
 Tamar was in Ward Z on the day when Private Nash 
 recovered his speech. It was visiting day, of course, 
 and she had been having long conversations with two 
 or three of the men who were without visitors. They 
 were drawn up to the bedside of one of their comrades, 
 smoking or doing their needlework, at which, under the 
 supervision of the devoted needlework organizer, they 
 had learnt to be so amazingly clever, often only with one 
 hand. 
 
 Bomber Thompson, his right arm gone, was about to 
 begin to put in the jewels in the crown of his regi- 
 mental badge, when he turned to Tamar and said : 
 
 " This is in your line, isn't it? WeD, it's a good 
 thing you're here today. You can tell me what colours 
 to put in. Can't make up my mind." 
 
 Tamar chose emeralds and amethysts. He nodded 
 approval. She was always touched to see them at 
 their work. The thought of the contrast between their
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 terrible experiences at the Front and this peaceful occu- 
 pation, always pulled at her heart-strings. She spoke 
 of it now. 
 
 " Yes," said Bomber Thompson with a laugh, " a bit 
 of a difference between throwing bombs at the Boches 
 and driving this needle through the canvas with half a 
 hand and all your false teeth." 
 
 Suddenly a middle-aged woman, who looked as if she 
 had hardly recovered from some severe illness, came 
 slowly towards the group and stopped. 
 
 " Can you tell me where Private Nash is ? " she asked. 
 
 " In the corner, yonder," Bomber Thompson said, 
 looking up from his badge. " The last bed." 
 
 " I'm his mother," she said. 
 
 " His mother ! " exclaimed the man. " But his 
 mother is dead." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " She nearly died, but not quite," she said. 
 
 She went on her way towards the corner, near the 
 lift, and stopped at her son's bedside. 
 
 " Ted," she called. Teddie." 
 
 Ted, who was lying huddled beneath the bedclothes, 
 started up, saw who was standing there, and began to 
 tremble violently. Then his voice came to him. 
 
 " Mother, it can't be you," he cried. " They've told 
 me you're dead. I can't believe it's you. They've told 
 me you're dead." 
 
 " It's me right enough, Teddie," she said, as she put 
 her arms round him. " I gave it to them hot for letting 
 you know I was so ill. As if I was going to die with 
 my boy out there alone in France in them horrid 
 trenches."
 
 342 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 The news spread through the ward. Sister was soon 
 on the spot, followed by all the nurses and many of the 
 men. Private Jones, the huge miner, stumbled up to 
 Ted's bedside, waved his arms about as if he were ad- 
 dressing a multitude, and in his stentorian voice, roared 
 out: 
 
 "Now, young feller, you take jolly good care you 
 don't lose that voice of yours again. A voice is a 
 precious thing and so is a mother." 
 
 The news spread through the hospital in that myste- 
 rious underground fashion in which tidings, good or ill, 
 burrow their way into publicity. The doctor of the 
 ward learnt it, although she was in the opposite block. 
 The radiographer and her orderly learnt it, and the men 
 playing a game of billiards in the Recreation Room 
 learnt it. It was borne to the kitchen by one of the 
 cleaners, a Mrs. Evans, who had the makings of a true 
 journalist in her. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " she took up her bed of death, she 
 did, and walked all the way from Newcastle-on-Tyne to 
 tell him she weren't dead. Only a mother could do 
 that." 
 
 The C. O. immersed in work in her office learnt it. 
 Matron interviewing a Sister from Serbia heard it. 
 A Sister lying ill in one of the bunks told one of the 
 librarians. She told a stalwart young girl who was 
 carrying with gay ease a mountain of bedding across 
 the courtyard. She told Sergeant-Major and he told 
 the transport officer. A newspaper man who chanced 
 to be there, snabbled it for his paper. His account 
 corresponded very nearly with that of the cleaner, only 
 he put the place farther north, choosing the remoter 
 spot of Aberdeen, instead of Newcastle-on-Tyne.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 343 
 
 Marion Thornton went down with Tamar when she 
 left the ward that afternoon. She had to go to the 
 Quarter-Master's office to exchange an old electric lamp 
 for a new one; but in any case she always contrived to 
 have an errand to do on the occasion of Tamar's de- 
 partures, partly because she liked to have a few min- 
 utes' talk with this friend to whom she had become much 
 attached, but also from protective reasons, to make sure 
 that she got off safely without any untoward adventure 
 or any sudden panic or sadness at the sight of suffering. 
 
 She need not have feared. Tamar might say that 
 she still disliked being with sick people, but she at least 
 never shrank from harrowing scenes as at the beginning. 
 Wondering admiration and a great compassion had 
 taken the place of personal sensitiveness. Gratitude to 
 these undaunted sufferers had ousted her former selfish 
 reluctance to serve. She was increasingly happy and 
 secretly proud in being associated with this hospital. 
 When she crossed the courtyard, she no longer turned 
 her eyes away, if she saw an operation case being taken 
 back from the theatre to the ward. The sight of a dis- 
 figured face no longer made her shrink. The broken 
 men in blue, hobbling along on their crutches, did not 
 now inspire her with a sudden longing to dash away and 
 forget that there was such a thing as a war going on. 
 She was not scared when she met any of the officials 
 not even any of the clever-looking doctors. She had 
 learnt to be immensely proud of them, proud of what 
 they were accomplishing, and of what they stood for. 
 And today when she glanced up at the window of the 
 C. O.'s office and saw her and the Surgeon-in-Chief bend- 
 ing over their desks, Tamar paused and asked herself 
 a question. It was this :
 
 344. WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " Could I perhaps spare one of my best Siam sap- 
 phires, and help with the training of another medical 
 woman exactly after the pattern of those women in 
 there? " 
 
 But she edited herself immediately. 
 
 *' No, no," she said, firmly. " I must not be too gen- 
 erous. I'm doing quite enough as it is. Quite 
 enough." 
 
 Marion's voice roused her from her reflections. 
 
 " Good-bye," she said. " I shall lo^k for you next 
 Saturday. I say, whilst I remember it, don't you dare 
 forget you've promised to take a party of men to the 
 theatre. Twelve would be a nice number, wouldn't it? '* 
 
 Tamar laughed her soft laugh. She loved these 
 claims which Marion made on her. She watched the 
 girl dart across the grey courtyard. She gave a last 
 glance at the rows upon rows of windows which had at 
 first so appalled her, and now seemed to beckon to her 
 with friendly greeting. She glanced at the four or five 
 little stunted trees trying their bravest and best not to 
 be outdone by the flowers in the pots and boxes senti- 
 nelled here and there. She was on the point of follow- 
 ing the stream of departing mothers, sisters, sweethearts 
 and all the other visitors, when suddenly the convoy 
 bell sounded. 
 
 Not for all the C. O.s in the world, not for all the 
 Regulations of the Defence of the Realm would Tamar 
 have missed the chance of being present at the arrival 
 of a convoy. 
 
 She beat a bold and hasty retreat to the area of the 
 West Block, and from a safe corner saw again the inter- 
 esting spectacle of those dashing girl orderlies scurry- 
 ing on to the scene from all parts of the hospital, lining
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 345 
 
 up in front of the Sergeant-Major and ready for in- 
 stant service, whilst the grey Red Cross Ambulances 
 glided in, one by one, with their freight of wounded 
 from the Front.
 
 PART III
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IT was on the twenty-fourth of February, 1916, that 
 the news came through of the German attack 
 launched on Verdun and of the magnificent French re- 
 sistance, the heroic continuation of which was to be the 
 abiding admiration of the whole world. Tamar had 
 bought a paper and glanced at the news ; for though she 
 hated newspapers at any time and had no wish to follow 
 the course of the war in detail, yet she had got as far as 
 keeping vaguely in touch with leading events. For one 
 thing, Bramfield became so cross if she did not know 
 what was happening ; and he was fretting so much over 
 Bruce that she did not like to vex him, if she could help 
 it. Also, it was rather annoying when people said: 
 " Didn't you hear that? " or " Didn't you read that in 
 this morning's paper? 7 ' 
 
 Not that her soldier friends at St. Ursula's would 
 have reproached her. By no means. They would 
 probably have said: 
 
 " If you don't want to know the real news from the 
 Front, read the newspapers carefully." 
 
 She could hear the huge Yorkshire miner, Private 
 Jones, giving forth this sentiment in stentorian accents. 
 She laughed as she tucked the paper under her arm and 
 passed on her way home, after having attended a sale 
 at Christie's. 
 
 As she rounded the corner, she came upon a pretty 
 young woman selling flags, who was at the moment en- 
 gaged in pinning one on the coat of an elderly gentle- 
 
 349
 
 350 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 man. He did not look as if rationing would be a bad 
 thing for him. 
 
 " I seem to know that young woman's face," thought 
 Tamar. " Where have I seen her, I wonder? 
 
 " Ha," she said aloud, after she had advanced a 
 few yards. " I remember the minx who robbed me 
 and who was forgiven by me when I was in a melting 
 mood." 
 
 She turned back, impelled by an irresistible desire to 
 torture her victim again. The old gentleman had de- 
 parted; and the flag-seller stood alone rearranging the 
 flags in her basket. 
 
 " I should like a Serbian flag," Tamar said. " A 
 penny one." 
 
 The young woman looked up and recognized Tamar. 
 She gave a low cry of alarm and seemed almost on the 
 point of throwing down her basket and running away 
 for dear life, when Tamar said : 
 
 " Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to harm you. 
 If I didn't harm you then, it is not at all likely that I 
 should harm you now. Please pin a penny flag on my 
 coat." 
 
 With trembling hands the poor minx pinned the fiag 
 on Tamar's coat, Tamar smiling the while, with that 
 particular kind of smile which we associate with the 
 Spanish Inquisition tortures. If the girl had been told 
 to pin on a hundred flags, she would have done so gladly 
 to get rid of this most unwelcome customer. 
 
 " By the way," said Tamar, " thank you for the little 
 box you sent me out of gratitude. Well, good-bye. 
 I'm glad you are doing something useful. I suppose it 
 is useful." 
 
 She passed on, having enjoyed herself hugely. And
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 351 
 
 soon after she had another little bit of enjoyment, but 
 of another kind and with no cruelty in it this time. A 
 young girl, walking along sedately with an old lady and 
 an old gentleman, suddenly broke away from them and 
 bounded forward to meet Tamar. 
 
 " Madame, Madame ! " she cried, " how happy I am 
 to see you again ! Don't you remember Marie Louise? " 
 
 Yes, indeed, she remembered Marie Louise, though it 
 was not easy at first to recognize in this happy young 
 creature with laughing eyes and rounded cheeks, that 
 poor, frightened, demented, forlorn little refugee found 
 in the hold of the barge, unknown and unclaimed. But 
 if she had changed in appearance, Marie Louise had 
 not changed in affection. And she still clung to Tamar 
 as she had clung at the station when she had refused 
 to be separated from the English friend who had been 
 so good to her. 
 
 " You see, she does not forget you, Madame," 
 Grand'mere said. " Everything else of that dreadful 
 time has passed from her mind, but not yourself." 
 
 Hand in hand they walked along together, those two, 
 Marie Louise chatting happily, and Tamar recalling 1 
 how the trust of that helpless, stricken child had first 
 roused in her a feeling of protective kindness to which 
 she had hitherto been a stranger. No, she would never 
 forget Marie Louise. Marie Louise had broken down a 
 barrier for her which perhaps, no one else could ever 
 have removed. 
 
 When she arrived home, she found Bramfield waiting 
 for her. The old char, made bold now by the churn up, 
 had brewed him a cup of tea. She thought he seemed 
 tired and out of sorts.
 
 352 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 " I thought you wouldn't grudge it to him," she said. 
 " Not in these 'ere changed times." 
 
 Tamar smiled indulgently. She never resented the 
 old char's criticisms of or allusions to her natural 
 meanness. From no one else would she have suffered 
 them. But Mrs. Bridges and she were knit together by 
 many years of mutual forbearance. 
 
 Bramfield told her that he was so exceedingly restless 
 that he did not know how to live his days, busy though 
 he was. 
 
 " I plan and plan for Bruce," he said. " I contrive 
 something all day long and dream about it all night, 
 Tamar. I shall never rest until I make a dash into 
 Germany and see what I can do for the boy. I've kept 
 back because I promised you to wait for the report of 
 the American Doctors. Ten whole weeks no more. 
 I went through miseries of suspense when delay after 
 delay occurred, and still the Germans were pretending 
 to arrange for the Mission to start. And miseries when 
 it did at last get off. And as you know, my Tamar, 
 miseries of disappointment when they did not go to 
 Doberitz. What I should have done without your kind- 
 ness and help and sympathy, I can't think. Very good 
 have you been to me, my Tamar, very patient. I've 
 given a lot of trouble lately." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " No, no," she said ; " no, that's not true." 
 
 " And now, worse rumours of the sufferings of the 
 prisoners are coming through," he said. 
 
 " Yes, I know," she said gently. 
 
 " It is simply not to be borne," he said, " and I've 
 come to tell you quite frankly that I cannot keep my 
 promise any longer. I don't care a brass farthing if
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 353 
 
 people think I am a futile fool for wanting to get into 
 Germany. Other people have done it, and come out 
 safe and sound. Well, we saw some ourselves, you re- 
 member? There was a man in our office the other day, 
 who had actually been to Berlin and got back again all 
 right. And he knows about as much German as your 
 old char. But he had cheek and could bluff well and 
 kept his head. Well, I have cheek and I can bluff well, 
 and moreover, I can speak German fluently." 
 
 " That may be," said Tamar, " but you won't be able 
 to keep cool, Bramfield. You get so excited. You're 
 so impetuous like a boy." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Yes, it is rather ridiculous at my age," he said. 
 " But at least it makes one continue to attempt impossi- 
 bilities. And that keeps one from becoming a fossil." 
 
 " And what do you propose to do when you are in 
 Germany ? " Tamar asked. 
 
 " I can't tell tiU I get there," he answered. " But 
 one thing will lead to another, and I shall rescue Bruce. 
 I tell you again, every fresh account that reaches us of 
 what the prisoners are suffering, makes me more deter- 
 mined than ever to have a try at carrying out his escape. 
 It is awful to sit here and do nothing. But I can't go 
 without your consent, my Tamar. I've been tempted 
 many times these last weeks, but have always ended up 
 by saying to myself that it wouldn't be playing the 
 game. I want your consent. If I have it, it will speed 
 me on my way with hope and good cheer." 
 
 She rose and paced up and down the room, with her 
 hands clasped behind her. Her face was tense. She 
 was stirred to her depths. If he went without her con- 
 sent, he would go disheartened and saddened at the
 
 354 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 outset, and that might spell failure for him. If he 
 went with her consent and met with disaster and de- 
 struction, then she would have helped to send him to his 
 doom. 
 
 She turned to him suddenly, with her arms stretched 
 out and almost in entreaty. 
 
 " Bramfield," she cried, " it is simply madness 
 can't you see it is just madness? " 
 
 " No, I don't see it as madness," he answered stub- 
 bornly. " A so-called mad thing often proves the only 
 sane thing to have done in the circumstances. It all 
 turns on whether one fails or succeeds. Chance. A 
 hair's breadth. That's what it is." 
 
 Up and down she paced again, whilst he sat staring 
 on the ground, his hands gripping his knees. At last 
 she knelt down by his side. 
 
 " You shall go with my consent, dear Bramfield," she 
 said, in a low voice which scarcely seemed able to give 
 utterance to her words. " I mustn't keep you. I won't 
 urge you to stay. If it is madness well, it has to be 
 madness. But you go with my consent, and therefore 
 with my blessing." 
 
 " Ah, my Tamar," he said, " then that means that I 
 shall succeed." 
 
 " Yes," she said, " you will succeed. You are mad 
 enough to succeed in anything." 
 
 " Mad enough to have succeeded in taming you," he 
 said, as he drew her nearer to him. " If I could do 
 that, I could do anything on earth." 
 
 Then, after a spell of silence, he said : 
 
 " But if I were to fail, and not return, you'd look 
 after Bruce when he came home, wouldn't you? You'd
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 355 
 
 make a point of doing it, wouldn't you? Everybody 
 has got to have some one to belong to, and Bruce would 
 have no one except you until he got married." 
 
 For answer she nodded her head, and his hand rested 
 on it, as if in benediction. 
 
 Later, he said: 
 
 " By the way, Tamar, I rather want to see your star 
 ruby. I've been buying one for a client lately for 
 one of those ladies with earrings that you're so fond 
 of and I would like to compare it with yours. I have 
 it here. It is a beauty, but not as fine as yours, if I re- 
 member rightly." 
 
 He drew out his pocket-book and took from it a 
 lovely asteria, with its six-pointed shimmering star, di- 
 verging from the centre of the stone to the edges. 
 
 " What do you think of it? " he asked. 
 
 " It is very beautiful," she said, as she turned it over 
 and examined it critically. 
 
 " Now let me see yours," he said. " I am curious to 
 compare the two. Of course you will say yours is the 
 best. I wonder you haven't said it already." 
 
 To his surprise, Tamar made no effort to open her 
 safe and produce her own specimen. 
 
 "Don't you want to be bothered?" he asked. 
 " Well, let me get it out. It's on the top shelf, isn't it? 
 I won't bag anything." 
 
 " It is not there," she said, turning her face away. 
 
 " It isn't there," he repeated in amazement. " Then 
 where is it? " 
 
 " It is gone," she said sulkily. 
 
 " Gone ! " he exclaimed. " Why, you don't mean to 
 say you have parted with it? It was one of your special
 
 356 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 joys, surely. Why didn't you tell me? You have al- 
 ways told me before when you parted with anything like 
 that." 
 
 She was silent for a minute or two and then, as if she 
 were making a shameful confession, said: 
 
 " I don't think I want to talk about it, Bramfield. It 
 was a great wrench to give it up. It went to the Red 
 Cross with other things." 
 
 And little by little he wormed out of her, that 
 amongst other stones, she had sent a rose-pink beryl 
 she valued greatly, an alexandrite cat's-eye, which was 
 extremely rare, and a specially beautiful Oriental topaz. 
 
 Simply, almost surlily, she told him that she had real- 
 ized she had to make sacrifices. It was not enough to 
 write cheques. She had thought it was, at first. She had 
 written a cheque now and again, chiefly for the sake of 
 easing her conscience. But after she had been to Hol- 
 land and seen Gertrude Linton's disinterestedness, yes, 
 and his own disinterestedness, the disinterestedness of 
 all the people he had brought her in contact with over 
 there, she had begun to look at things differently. She 
 had wanted to give a bit of service. And after she had 
 been to the hospital and seen for herself the sacrifices 
 \the men had made, she wanted to make sacrifices. 
 
 " I don't pretend I've made them gladly, Bramfield," 
 she said, with a wistful smile. " I could never arrive at 
 that point. Never in my life. But I've started on the 
 journey. You have helped me. When I dream of my 
 mother now, I no longer see her angry, menacing. And 
 sometimes in the stillness of the night, those words you 
 spoke, are borne to me afresh. Perhaps you could 
 speak them now." 
 
 He was moved by her confession, touched by her sim-
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 357 
 
 pie frankness. He looked at her with a radiance on his 
 face, which she never forgot, and then spoke the beauti- 
 ful words for which she asked: 
 
 " Lay not up for yourself treasures on earth, where 
 moth and rust doth corrupt and where thieves break 
 through and steal. But lay up for yourself treasures 
 in Heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, 
 and where thieves do not break through nor steal. For 
 where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A WEEK or two afterwards, Bramfield went to Hol- 
 land. He did not say good-bye to Tamar, but 
 slipped off without a word ; and it was from his friend, 
 the lapidary, that she learnt he had really gone. She 
 had called in on some business and heard from Mr. 
 Grierson that Bramfield had asked him to tell her. 
 
 " I was coming to you today," he said. ** I tried 
 hard to dissuade him from attempting to get into Ger- 
 many. It seemed to me an altogether mad scheme. I 
 can only hope that his friends at The Hague and Rot- 
 terdam will prevent him. But he is obsessed with the 
 idea. And you know that when an idea gets into Bram- 
 field's brain, nothing moves him." 
 
 " He had to go," Tamar said, as she played listlessly 
 with some bits of jade on the counter. But her heart 
 sank. 
 
 On her way home she kept on saying to herself : 
 
 " He had to go. He had to go." 
 
 In the days that followed, she was restless and absent- 
 minded. Her thoughts were with Bramfield all the 
 time. Always was she wondering what he was doing: 
 whether his friends in Holland had persuaded him to re- 
 linquish his plan, or whether he had passed over the 
 frontier and was having adventures and misadventures, 
 the very thought of which made her heart stand still. 
 At moments she tortured herself with regrets and self- 
 reproaches that she had not detained him. She knew 
 that she, if any one, could have detained him, could have 
 
 358
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 359 
 
 deterred him. If she had said to Bramfield that she 
 would marry him then and there, he would not have 
 gone. Why did she not say it? She had almost said 
 it. She had not refrained because of dreading to give 
 up her liberty. She was caring less and less for her 
 liberty. No, she had refrained because she knew that 
 it was Bramfield's soul's necessity to go, and to cajole 
 him at such a moment and take an unfair advantage of 
 his affection for her, would have been a mean and un- 
 worthy trick. He would have hated her for it in the 
 end and she would have hated herself and him. 
 But when he was safely back again, then she would say 
 to him: 
 
 " Bramfield, I don't want my liberty any more I 
 don't want it any more." 
 
 Almost she could hear him saying : 
 
 " All right, my Tamar. Are you sure you've made 
 up your mind at last ? " 
 
 She wrote immediately one of her laconic letters to 
 him and sent it to the American Relief Commission, 
 where she knew his correspondence always went. This 
 was the letter : 
 
 " Dear Bramfield, 
 
 " I want to say that when you return I don't want 
 my liberty any more. 
 
 "T. SCOTT." 
 
 Mercifully for her she was very busy. A new War 
 Loan had been started, and her shop had been invaded 
 by people bringing their jewels and antiques to sell. 
 And she had been called away to value a collection in 
 Cambridgeshire; and in addition to her own business 
 claims, she had her work cut out for her at the hospital,
 
 360 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 where she had now been installed as ward visitor to 
 Ward Z, the C.O. having recognized her kindness and 
 steadiness of service and purpose. For whatever her 
 faults, fickleness was not one of them. Proud was 
 Tamar when the C.O. asked her to be ward visitor to Z. 
 She did not, of course, betray any signs of pleasure. 
 On the contrary, she appeared to the C.O. and the Chief 
 Surgeon, who both interviewed her, to be an exceedingly 
 sulky individual until she smiled. Then they knew. 
 But they could not imagine what on earth she meant 
 when, on taking her leave, she mumbled something about 
 having very likely to reconsider her decision about a 
 Siam sapphire. It was indeed a cryptic statement. 
 
 Parties of wounded men came to tea in Dean Street, 
 brought by Marion in charge. The old char gasped at 
 the spreads, and at their disappearance! 
 
 " Not a crumb left," she said. " These soldiers can 
 eat as well as fight, can't they? And what's going to 
 become of us soon, I should like to know? We shall 
 have to put up the shutters and go to the Workhouse, 
 what with soldiers' teas and a gramophone and prison- 
 ers' parcels. Times is changing too much. I'm get- 
 ting scared. Aren't you spending too much of our 
 money ? " 
 
 Tamar chuckled. She liked her spreads. She loved 
 the wholesale demands that Marion made on her, though 
 she by no means always responded to them; and so far 
 she had entirely refused to be roped into Winifred's net 
 spread for the welfare and care of the munition girl 
 workers, who were now toiling in their thousands in all 
 parts of the country. But whenever she did let herself 
 go, she never failed to maintain the profoundest secrecy 
 about what she almost appeared to consider a fresh
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 361 
 
 crime. It was a curious attitude, but it was distinctly 
 better than a blast of trumpets, a flashing of the lime- 
 light, a dashing after recognitions and honours, an ac- 
 centuation of self-importance, an insistence on the value 
 of what one was doing and being for one's country 
 cheap satisfaction and perishable. Probably Tamar 
 was too much taken up with the effort of being human, 
 and doing battle with her temperamental tendencies to 
 have any strength or consciousness left for the develop- 
 ment of " trimmings." Perhaps, too, she was helped 
 and influenced in her new ciareer of human being, by the 
 example of the single-minded soldiers she saw week in 
 week out at the hospital, who put no value on their in- 
 dividual bit, except as forming an infinitesimal part of a 
 great whole. 
 
 She was not destined to pass through these anxious 
 days of waiting for news of Bramfield, without being 
 buoyed up by one or two unexpected happenings of good 
 cheer. To her glad surprise, Dorothy arrived one 
 morning, arm in arm with Rupert. They were radi- 
 antly happy. It was evident that Rupert was not con- 
 cerned with problems of the unseen world. 
 
 " We have just been married," Dorothy announced 
 gaily. " I got ten days' leave and thought we might 
 just as well do the trick, so that Rupert might not go 
 on being gummidgy dear old thing. He doesn't look 
 gummidgy now, does he? " 
 
 " Great, isn't it ? " Rupert said, beaming. " We had 
 to come and tell you, you know, so that we might have 
 some of that celebrated Tokay and see your present for 
 the one and only home which still looms in the dim dis- 
 tance the very dim distance, worse luck. Never
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 mind. I've landed her. She's mine. I had to waive 
 that little matter about the Ordre de Leopold II ! " 
 
 " It rather takes my breath away," Tamar said, 
 laughing at them. " But I suppose it is only part of 
 the churn up." 
 
 " That's it," Rupert said. " And that is how mother 
 took it. Mother's a peerless pearl." 
 
 " Yes, indeed she is," Dorothy said. " She looked 
 up calmly from her knitting and said : ' Really, how 
 delightful, my dear children ! ' And we all hugged each 
 other. Worth any amount of wedding festivities and 
 fussations that." 
 
 " Rather," agreed Rupert. " And it was a treat to 
 see how she snuffed out Uncle James Currie when he 
 muttered something about it being ' precipitate, un- 
 usual, undignified.' ' James,' she said, * try and not 
 show any more than you can help, how ridiculously out- 
 of-date you are.' ' 
 
 " It was priceless," said Dorothy. " I only hope 
 my mother will play up when she knows. By the way, 
 Rupe, we must send her a wire at the station." 
 
 " We're off to Lallington for our honeymoon," 
 Rupert said. " I was delighted when Dorothy chose 
 it." 
 
 " I love the old Grange," Dorothy said, " and the 
 monk who comes and looks in at the library window, 
 and Barguest, the soft-footed hound, and all the other 
 queer things belonging to the place and Rupert, the 
 queerest and dearest of them all." 
 
 They drank Tokay, and interviewed Tamar's present, 
 the beautiful Limoges enamel which was to wait there 
 for them until the day dawned for the one and only 
 home.
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 363 
 
 Laughing in their young happiness and comradeship, 
 they came. Laughing they went. When they had 
 gone, the world seemed dark to Tamar. But the clouds 
 drifted after a time; and the memory of their joy shone 
 out like a beacon. 
 
 That helped her for many days. 
 
 Then Tom turned up. He had been nearly three 
 months at the Front, had been doing very well, and had 
 already earned praise for courage and resourcefulness. 
 But " Archie " had caught him on the left arm, not very 
 badly, but badly enough to send him home to Blighty 
 for a short time ; and he was in hilarious spirits and as 
 keen as mustard, and almost as boyish as ever, though 
 he looked older. 
 
 " Who knows," he said, " if it had not been for your 
 amulet and the mysterious words you pronounced over 
 it and me, my valuable life, the hope of the country, 
 might have come to its regretted end. Instead of which, 
 here I am, cheerioh, going to all the theatres for the 
 benefit of my impaired health. By the way, any more 
 treasure been found at the Grange? Do you know, 
 when I was coming to, after my operation, they said I 
 kept on calling out, * Encyclopaedia ! ' Touching, 
 wasn't it? Shows how one's heart seeks the haven of 
 one's home. But then I always was romantic from ear- 
 liest birth, though no one has ever believed it. I tell 
 you, the Sister was much impressed. She said : ' I see 
 we have a scholar here.' I told her I was a scholar and 
 very particular about the kind of encyclopaedia I used 
 you know the kind I mean, don't you? Well were 
 there any more precious stones tucked away snugly 
 anywhere? Not even such a trifling thing as a dia- 
 mond? "
 
 364 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 
 
 Tamar laughed, and said that not even such a trifling 
 thing as a diamond had been found. 
 
 He was hugely delighted at Rupert's marriage, but 
 wished he could have come over from France in his " old 
 bus " to drop rice or confetti on their heads. 
 
 He told her thrilling stories about the airmen at the 
 Front and the wonderful things they did. His face lit 
 up as he spoke of their superb daring. 
 
 " When I used to read about them at home," he said, 
 " I used to think of them as sort of gods into whose 
 presence I should never come. And I still think of them 
 as gods more than ever, now that I know more about 
 them." 
 
 Tamar was again bewildered with all the details he 
 poured out for her instruction. Long reconnaissances, 
 short distance reconnaissances, severe strafes by Archie, 
 machine-guns, zig-zag-dive-zooms, patrolling, low flying, 
 night and day bombing, photography, gun mountings, 
 controls, enemy machines, artillery observation, were 
 some of the subjects hurled recklessly at her brain. 
 But though bewildered, she was exceedingly " bucked." 
 His good spirits, his enthusiasm and his cheery com- 
 panionship were a godsend to her in her anxiety ; and if 
 ever a person was grateful for the magic healing power 
 of the greatest of all magics youth, with its irresisti- 
 ble hope and buoyancy Tamar was that person. 
 
 She had told him about Bramfield ; and in his own way 
 he tried to encourage her. He said he was sure that 
 Bramfield would came back safely, and she was not to 
 fret and use the cambric handkerchief. No, she really 
 must not. 
 
 When she smiled at the allusion to this old friend, he 
 said:
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 365 
 
 " There, now, you can still smile. That's right." 
 
 Never a day went by but that Tom dashed into the 
 shop, if only for a few minutes, and called out: 
 
 " Hullo, you there ? Any news from that blighter 
 yet?" 
 
 And once he dragged her out to the Coliseum. He 
 would take no refusal. 
 
 " Come on," he said. " It'll do you good. Help you 
 to forget your trouble. Marion's coming, too. Just 
 go and get your hat, and we'll be off. I'll put the shut- 
 ters up and give the cat some milk." 
 
 When he came to say good-bye to her, his last words 
 were: 
 
 " Now mind you keep your tail-end up. And, I say, 
 if you feel like it, I wish you'd send me some Magliesberg 
 tobacco sometimes. And don't forget to wish me luck 
 in bringing down Boche machines. Weave them into 
 the spell, can't you? And be sure and scratch me a 
 line when your news comes through. Cheerioh ! "
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE news came through at last, after ten long weeks 
 of waiting. Gertrude Linton brought it. She 
 arrived with her little suit-case in her hand, and sat 
 down at the counter. She looked pale. There was 
 none of her usual gaiety of manner. 
 
 " I bring bad news, dear friend," she said. 
 
 Tamar bent over the counter and stared in front of 
 her. 
 
 " Bramfield is dead," Gertrude Linton said. " He 
 was shot as a spy three weeks ago. We learnt this only 
 two days ago. We learnt also that Bruce had escaped, 
 and is safe." 
 
 Tamar still bent over the counter, but her eyes were 
 closed and her lips were quivering. Otherwise she gave 
 no sign that she had heard. 
 
 " Tamar," said Gertrude Linton, and touched her on 
 the arm. " Tamar, I want you to know that he received 
 your letter Tamar." 
 
 There was no sign, no response only a terrible 
 silence, long-drawn-out in an eternity of pain. 
 
 " Dear friend," Gertrude Linton said at last. 
 " Amongst others, I've brought over, this time, a for- 
 lorn old governess, who has lived in Frankfurt for years 
 and has no home to go to. You'll take her in for a 
 night or two until we can arrange for her, won't you? 
 
 You'll carry on won't you? " 
 
 366
 
 WHERE YOUR HEART IS 367 
 
 " Yes," said Tamar, in a voice which seemed to come 
 from a far distance. " I'll carry on." 
 
 She raised herself from the counter, and went slowly 
 upstairs to prepare the room. 
 
 THE END