Sarratt shook his head.

‘Not till we get more guns, and tons more shell!’

‘Oh, the country’s waking up!’

‘It’s about time!’ said Sarratt, gravely, as he climbed into the car.  Sir William bent towards him.

’Anything that we can do to help your wife and her sister, during their stay here, you may be sure we shall do.’

‘It’s very kind of you,’ said the young officer gratefully, as he grasped Farrell’s hand.  And Nelly sent a shy glance of thanks towards the speaker, while Bridget sat erect and impassive.

Sir William watched them disappear, and then returned to the tea-room.  He was received with a burst of laughter from his sister.

’Well, Willy, so you’re caught—­fairly caught!  What am I to do?  When am I to ask her?  And the sister too?’

And lighting another cigarette, Cicely looked at her brother with mocking eyes.

Farrell reddened a little, but kept his temper.

’In a week or two I should think, you might ask her, when she’s got over her husband’s going away.’

‘They get over it very soon—­in general,’ said Cicely coolly.

‘Not that sort.’

The voice was Captain Marsworth’s.

Cicely appeared to take no notice.  But her eyelids flickered.  Hester Martin interposed.

‘A dear, little, appealing thing,’ she said, warmly—­’and her husband evidently a capital fellow.  I didn’t take to the sister—­but who knows?  She may be an excellent creature, all the same.  I’m glad I shall be so near them.  It will be a help to that poor child to find her something to do.’

Cicely laughed.

‘You think she’ll hunt sphagnum—­and make bandages?  I don’t.’

‘Why this “thusness?"’ said Miss Martin raising her eyebrows.  ’What has made you take a dislike to the poor little soul, Cicely?  There never was anyone more plainly in love—­’

‘Or more to be pitied,’ said the low voice in the background—­low but emphatic.

It was now Cicely’s turn to flush.

‘Of course I know I’m a beast,’ she said defiantly,—­’but the fact is I didn’t like either of them!—­the sisters, I mean.’

‘What oh earth is there to dislike in Mrs. Sarratt!’ cried Farrell.  ‘You’re quite mad, Cicely.’

‘She’s too pretty,’ said Miss Farrell obstinately—­and too—­too simple.  And nobody as pretty as that can be really simple.  It’s only pretence.’

As she spoke Cicely rose to her feet, and began to put on her veil in front of one of the old mirrors.  ’But of course, Will, I shall behave nicely to your friends.  Don’t I always behave nicely to them?’

She turned lightly to her brother, who looked at her only half appeased.

‘I shan’t give you a testimonial to-day, Cicely.’

’Then I must do without it.  Well, this day three weeks, a party at Carton, for Mrs. Sarratt.  Will that give her time to settle down?’