on the defensive, lest any claim should be made upon him which might further interfere with the passion of his life.  He was not, he said, in a position to increase Aubrey’s allowance—­the Government robbers had seen to that—­and unless Beryl was prepared to be a poor man’s wife he advised them to wait till after the war.  Then Sir Henry had ridden over to Mannering with a statement of what he was prepared to do for his daughter, and the Squire had given ungracious consent to a marriage in the spring.  Chicksands knew his man too well to take offence at the Squire’s manners, and Beryl was for a time too timidly and blissfully happy to be troubled by them.

‘You have been here a few weeks,’ said the newcomer to Elizabeth, when the party had settled down at table.

‘About six weeks.  It seems longer!’ smiled Elizabeth.

‘You are doing some work for my father?’

Elizabeth explained herself.  Major Mannering listened attentively.

‘So what you do for him is literary—­and historical?’

‘Oh no—­I do accounts, and write letters too.’

‘Accounts?  I thought there was a housekeeper?’

‘She went a month ago to the W.A.A.C.’s.  Please!—­do you mind?’ And to his amazement, as he was putting out his hand automatically to a piece of bread lying on his left, Miss Bremerton’s hand holding a fork neatly intercepted him, and moved the bread away.

‘It’s our “Self-denying Ordinance,"’ explained the lady, colouring a little.  ’The bread appears because—­because your father doesn’t think rations necessary.  But no one touches it, and Forest collects it afterwards—­for breakfast.’

A smile broke on Aubrey’s grave and pensive face.

‘I see.  Mayn’t I really have any?’

Elizabeth hesitated.

‘Well, perhaps, as a guest, and a soldier.  Yes, I think you may.’  And she would have restored her prey had not her neighbour stopped her.

’Not at all.  As a soldier I obey orders.  My hat! how you’ve drilled them all!’ For, looking round the table, he saw that not a single guest had touched the bread lying to their left.

’That’s Pamela and Mr. Desmond!  They’ve given everybody a menu for three days.’

‘Good heavens—­not my father!’

’Oh no, no!  We don’t think he suspects anything, and he has everything he likes.’

‘And my married sisters?’ Elizabeth hesitated again.

’Well, Mrs. Gaddesden is rather afraid of being starved.  Mrs. Strang, on the other hand, thinks we’re wickedly extravagant!’

Her neighbour was so much amused that conversation flowed on easily thenceforward; and Desmond opposite whispered to Pamela: 

‘Just look at Broomie!  She’s actually making Aubrey talk.’