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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Tommy," said Miss Willmot. "Awaiting trial by Field General Court Martial on a charge of deliberately wounding himself in the leg." "Tommy," said Miss Willmot again, "you didn't do that." The boy broke down suddenly. The hardness and the anger vanished. "Miss Willmot," he said, "for God's sake don't tell Nelly that I'm here." "You didn't do it," said Miss Willmot.
Digby had a fine faith in Miss Willmot's power to do "something" under any circumstances. Experience strengthened his faith instead of shattering it. Had not Miss Willmot on one occasion faced and routed a medical board which tried to seize the men's recreation-room for its own purposes? And in the whole hierarchy of the Army there is no power more unassailable than that of a medical board.
If the counter had not been so broad and high she would in all probability have kissed him. "Oh, Tommy!" she said. "And I'd given up all hope of seeing you. This is just a perfect Christmas box. How did you get here?" Tommy Collins looked appealingly to Miss Willmot. His eyes begged her as plainly as if words had crossed his lips not to tell the story of his arrest.
He made two speeches. One was in a low voice across the counter to Miss Willmot. The other was to the men. It was all about Miss Willmot. It was beautifully phrased. But she did not hear a word of it She was scarcely aware of the men's cheers, though the paper festoons swayed to and fro, and the Chinese lanterns shook with the violence of the shouting.
Then he faces the stern judgment of a court martial, and pays the penalty. "Poor fellow!" said Miss Willmot. "Poor boy! What he must have gone through before he did that!" "He went through no more than any other man went through," said the Major; "but they stuck it and he shirked. There are men enough who deserve our pity, Miss Willmot We can't afford to waste sympathy on cowards."
Willmot came to spend the evening, and very singularly consulted me about undertaking a series of English Portraits Littéraires, like Sainte-Beuve's former works. He will do it well, and I commended him to the charming "Causeries," and advised him to make that a weekly article, as no doubt he could. It would only tell the better for the wide diffusion.
Other ladies gave crackers and mince pies. Digby, garrulous and friendly, distributed cigarettes. The Major stood at the far end of the room under the glistening white star. He was waiting for the moment to arrive at which he should make his speech, a speech sure to be received with genuine applause, for it was to be in praise of Miss Willmot The Major did that kind of thing well.
Lyle looked thoughtful. "I anticipate trouble with him," he said. "Indeed, the trouble has commenced already. But, with all due respect to Colonel Carrington, we intend to have the creamery. He came home yesterday, and rides over to see Willmot about it to-morrow." When he had gone Harry laughed with evident enjoyment of something.
It was not easy to find a spot to put it The roof of the kitchen leaked badly in several places. "Look here, Miss Willmot," said Digby. "I wonder if you could do anything about this. I've just been round to the guard-room. There's a poor devil there " "Language! language!" said Miss Nelly. She was on her knees beside the stove rescuing her plate of toast from danger.
Bates, perilously balanced, hammered a nail, the last necessary nail, into the wall through the topmost ray of a large white star. Then he crept cautiously down. Standing beside Miss Willmot he surveyed the star. "Looks a bit like Christmas, don't it, miss?" he said. "The glitters on it," said Sergeant O'Rorke, "is the beautifullest that ever was seen.
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