But as that could not be brought off, it was decided that working parties at her house led to too much giddiness from suppressed giggles or torpor from too much food.  So she relapsed once more into loneliness.  Unfortunately air-raids were now becoming events of occasional fright and anxiety in London, and this deterred Cousin Sophie from Darlington, Cousin Matty from Leeds, Joseph’s wife from Northallerton or old, married schoolfellows from other northern or midland towns coming to partake of her fastuous hospitality.  Also, they all seemed to be busy, either over their absent husbands’ business, or their sons’, or because they were plunged in war work themselves.  “And really, in these times, I couldn’t stand Linda for more than five minutes,” one of them said.

As to the air-raids, she was not greatly alarmed at them.  Of course it was very uncomfortable having London so dark at night, but then she only went out in the afternoon, and never in the evening.  And the Germans seemed to be content and discriminating enough not to bomb what she called “the resi_den_tial” parts of London.  The nearest to Portland Place of their attentions was Hampstead or Bloomsbury.  “We are protected, my dear, by the open spaces of Regent’s Park.  They wouldn’t like to waste their bombs on poor me!”

However her maid didn’t altogether like the off chance of the Germans or our air-craft guns making a mistake and trespassing on the residential parts of London, so she persuaded her mistress to spend part of the winter of 1915-16 at Bournemouth.  Here she was not happy and far lonelier even than in London.  She did not like to send all that way for the Adams children, she had a parlour suite all to herself at the hotel, and was timid about making acquaintances outside, since everybody now-a-days wanted you to subscribe to something, and it was so disagreeable having to say “no.”  She was not a great walker so she could not enjoy the Talbot woods; the sea made her feel sad, remembering that Michael was the other side and the submarines increasingly active:  in short, air-raids or no air-raids, she returned home in March, and her maid, who had been with her ten years, gave her warning.

But then she had an inspiration!  She engaged Mrs. Albert Adams to take her place, and although the parlour-maid at this took offence and cut the painter of domestic service, went off to the munitions till Sergeant Frederick Summers should get leave to come home and marry her; and they were obliged to engage another parlour-maid in her place at double the wages:  Mrs. Rossiter had done a very wise thing.  “Bert” had been home for three weeks in the preceding February, and the recently bereaved Mrs. Adams had united her tears with Mrs. Rossiter’s on the misery of the War which separated attached husbands and wives.  It now alleviated the sorrows of both that they should be together as mistress and maid.  The cook—­a most important factor—­had always liked Bertie