Behind the Lines by W. F.; Morris

ambulance gone. And he had not said one word to her.
    Regardless of military dignity he raced towards the Arras road, but dropped precipitately into a walk as he saw the ambulance emerge from a side street a few yards from him.
    He raised his hand to the salute as it turned slowly into the main road. She saw him and smiled. He put a hand on the wing of the car gliding slowly past him.
    â€œAre you going along the Arras road?” he asked breathlessly, with scarlet face. She nodded. “Be an angel and give me a lift,” he panted desperately.
    For answer she brought the car to rest, and he climbed in beside her. She let in the clutch and they glided down the street and out along the tree-shaded road without speaking.
    â€œGet back all right last time?” he inquired at last, inanely.
    She nodded. “Did you?”
    â€œYes, rather.”
    He was supremely happy sitting there beside her, but for the life of him he could think of nothing to say. Andhe wanted to talk. He had wasted so much time already hunting for her in Doullens. Soon they would reach the sunken track which was his way back to the village. Suddenly he remembered the concert party she had said she was going to see.
    â€œI say, did you enjoy that concert party?” he asked, knowing well that she had not yet been.
    â€œI haven’t seen it yet,” she answered. “It is coming on Friday.”
    â€œI am going to try to borrow a motor-bike or else lorry-jump in to see it,” he announced.
    They had reached the sunken track and passed it. She had given it a glance, but had made no comment.
    â€œDo you think we could go together?” he asked quickly. “I would like to awfully, if you wouldn’t mind very much—would you?”
    â€œI should love it,” she said.
    â€œThat’s splendid. It will be great fun.”
    He found he could talk more easily now, and he was elated at the prospect of spending over two hours in her society. She had pointed out that they had nearly reached the village in which was her C.C.S., but he had replied, “Yes—if you go the nearest way, but is there any hurry?” And she had taken the next turning and driven off into a maze of side roads.
    She fell silent at length, and presently she stopped the car and turned to him. Her little face was troubled.
    â€œThis isn’t fair,” she said. “You know you ought to go. We passed your turning hours ago. I ought to be back,and I’ve taken you all over the place. It isn’t fair to make me go on.”
    He jumped out quickly on to the road and stood with his hands on the wheel looking appealingly at her. He was terribly afraid that he had angered her by his selfishness.
    â€œI say, I’m awfully sorry,” he said. “You are absolutely right. Jolly caddish of me. You’re not frightfully angry with me, are you? Serve me right if you were. But you are not, are you?” he pleaded.
    She shook her head with a wistful smile at his earnestness.
    â€œBeastly selfish of me, but I enjoyed it so much,” he said.
    She looked down at the ignition lever and rasped it forward and then back. “So did I,” she confessed; “but I thought you would never go.”
    â€œI’m forgiven then?”
    She nodded.
    â€œTill Friday evening, then. Goodbye—Berney.”
    She let in the clutch and the car began to move.
    â€œGoodbye—Peter.”
    He watched the car out of sight and then strode gaily along, slapping his field-boot every other step with his crop.
    V
    A period of rest in a peaceful back area village within reasonable distance of Doullens was an event which any of the hard-worked batteries in France would have hailed with joy, and B Battery were enjoying their stay atErvillers. The Major never fussed his command, and apart from the necessary parades of stables and exercise that are inseparable from a mounted unit, he left the battery in peace. The men played football