In the wake of the festivities, we watched the Regimental children play, running about the pasture and fancying themselves captives in the great oven of Nebuchadnezzar. They leaped and schemed escapes, producing doors from air.

Observing Miss Nsia — now Mrs. Williams — smiling upon their antics, Dr. Trefusis asked whether the new pair wished soon to have children. Mrs. Williams replied that she did not wish to at present, given the hostilities; but that Pro Bono desired to as soon as they might. “He wish a boy. I tell him, ‘You just want to see you own face on more people around our house.’”

I owned that I was somewhat surprised to hear that Private Williams was so much in favor of reproduction, when his views of our future were so grim.

Mrs. Williams laughed. “So he says. But Private Williams — he is a big hank of sentiment.” She turned to me and asked, “Private Nothing, you ever wish for to marry?”

I hid my confusion at this inquiry, little desiring to meet her gaze (she who I found so perfect and artless) nor that of my tutor (who should sound out my discomfort); and I replied that I did dream of retiring after the war to a cabin by a great, silent river with a fair one who might join me in such solitude, that we might together make music, merriment, and a nobler generation.

“Someday soon, you find that fair one,” she said in mollifying tones. “You a handsome man.” She patted me upon the arm. “When I met you, I thought you was very handsome, excepting you wasn’t interested.” She laughed. “You was more handsome than that fool,” she said in tones of delight, watching her husband scamper across the field, tilting with the children, playing the Babylon King.

I nodded; and presented my regrets that I had to step suddenly away upon an errand. Dr. Trefusis watched me go, as the children, screeching with delight, were beset upon by lions.