Then, as he fell silent beside his father’s new secretary, the table vanished.  He saw instead the wide Picardy flats, a group of poplars, a distant wood, and in front a certain hollow strewn with dead and dying men—­one figure, in front of the rest, lying face downwards.  The queer twisted forms, the blasted trees, the inexorable horror—­the whole vision swept over him again, as it had done in the schoolroom.  His nerves shrank and trembled under it.

Beryl—­poor little Beryl!  What a wretch he had been to propose to her—­in a moment of moral and physical weakness, when it had seemed a simple thing to accept her affection and to pledge his own!  But if she stood by him, he must stand by her.  And he had had the kindest letter from Sir Henry, and some sweet tremulous words from her.  Suppose she offered to release him?  His heart leapt guiltily at the thought.  What, indeed, had a man so haunted and paralysed to give to a girl like Beryl?  It was an outrage—­it ought to cease.

But as to his father, that was simple enough.

The Squire and his eldest son retreated to the library after dinner, and all the rest of the party waited uneasily to see what would happen.  Elizabeth did her best to keep things going.  It might have been noticed—­it was noticed by at least two of the persons present—­that quite unobtrusively, she was already the mistress of the house.  She found a stool and a fire-screen for Mrs. Gaddesden; she held some wool for Mrs. Strang to wind; and a backgammon board was made ready for the Squire, in case he returned.

But he did not return.  Aubrey came back alone, and found them all hanging on his entrance.  Pamela put down her knitting and looked at him anxiously; so did the elder sisters.  He went up absently to the chimney-piece, and stood leaning against it.

‘Well?’ said Pamela in a low voice, as she came to sit on a stool near him.

He smiled, but she saw that he was pale.

’Can you take me over to Chetworth to-morrow—­early—­in the pony-cart?’

‘Yes, certainly.’

‘Half-past ten?’

‘Right you are.’

No more was said.  Aubrey turned at once to Alice Gaddesden and proposed a round game.  He played it with much more spirit than usual, and Desmond’s antics in ‘Animal Grab’ put all serious notions to flight.

But when the game was over, and Forest brought in the candles, Margaret tried to get some information.

‘You found the father reasonable?’ she said to her brother in an undertone, as they stood together by the fire.

‘Oh, yes,’ was the indifferent answer, ‘from his own point of view.’

And when he had lit their candles for his sisters, he excused himself at once on the ground of being dog-tired after a long day.  The door closed upon him.

The family gathered together in a group, while the Rector and Elizabeth talked about the village at the further end of the room.