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of the shrub, such that something was always in flower—in either white, pink, or purple, and dozens of intricate blends and variations of each.
    Jocelyn’s thoughts on this day, however, were not on the beauties of the garden. They sat down on their favorite bench in a secluded alcove amongst several dwarf pines.
    It was silent for five or ten minutes as they sat hand in hand. Silence when they were together did not bother them. Their spirits were equally communicative with or without words.
    At last Charles began to pray.
    â€œLord,” he said softly, “as long as we have been trying to obey you and listen to your voice, it sometimes seems you are so silent. It is difficult to know what you want us to do. We desire to do your will. But what is that will . . . ? It is hard at times to know.”
    He paused. Silence settled again for a few moments. Then he continued.
    â€œAs we now embark on this new phase of life, we pray that you would keep us in your will. I ask that you would comfort my family in my absence—my dear Jocelyn and Catharine. Encourage them during this time , which we pray will be brief. Protect our whole family as the separations increase. Watch over George and me. May we grow closer together as father and son through this experience.
    â€œAnd we pray for our Amanda, wherever she is at this moment. Though such seems impossible to my limited sight, and though she tells us she is now married, I ask again, as I have so many times before, that you would bring her home and restore her here once more as part of our family. As terrible as war is . . . use it, Lord, in all our lives for the perfecting of your purpose for us. We pray especially that in Amanda’s life, these times would work toward the healing of her confused and wayward heart. Reconcile her to us, and restore her to yourself. Place within her being the desire to be your humble and obedient daughter.”
    Charles’ voice fell silent. He exhaled a long sigh. Jocelyn was softly weeping.
    For another twenty or thirty minutes they remained together in the garden, quietly talking over many things. That evening they spent in the library with their daughter Catharine. George had already been gone for a month. It was a quiet and peaceful family time together, though tears flowed several times from the eyes of the two women.
    Early the next morning, Sir Charles Rutherford left Heathersleigh for Plymouth.
    â€”———
    Charles’ thoughts came once more to the present. Still the coastline passed outside his porthole as the Dauntless gradually increased in speed. When would he see his beloved Heathersleigh again? he wondered. He had tried to reassure Jocelyn and Catharine that his duties would not keep him away for long, but in truth he knew how very dangerous this mission was. British naval losses in these opening months of hostilities had been greater than anyone had expected. Sofar six British steamers had been captured by the Germans and four battle cruisers sunk by German submarines. On land the German advance into France had been halted at the Seine, the Marne, and the Meuse. The Germans had begun a slow retreat, but the prospects of this conflict being a long and arduous one were grim indeed.
    Shaking such concerns from his head, his thoughts and prayers returned to Amanda.
    Where was she at this moment? What would she do now that Europe was at war? The thought brought a lump to his throat and his eyes briefly filled. He could not help wondering if he would ever see her again. He loved her so much. He and she were so much alike. He smiled as he remembered her spunk, laughter, and sense of humor.
    The thoughts were too painful to bear. He blinked quickly several times and drew in two or three deep breaths.
    At least, thought Charles, he would soon be reunited with his son, Amanda’s older brother George, who had preceded him to the Orkneys. If there was any consolation in all this,