CHAPTER VIII

ASSORTED GUESTS “I beg your pardon—is this Homewood?” Norah, practising long putts at a hole on the far side of the terrace, turned with a start. The questioner was in uniform, bearing a captain’s three stars. He was a short, strongly-built young man, with a square, determined face. “Yes, this is Homewood,” she answered. “Did you—have you come to see my father?” “I wrote to him last week,” the officer said—“from France. It’s Miss Linton, isn’t it? I’m in your brother’s regiment. My name is Garrett.” “Oh—I’ve heard …