It was a still, warm day in early July. As one looked out
over the flat Essex country, lying so green and peaceful under
the afternoon sun, it seemed almost impossible to believe that,
not so very far away, a great war was running its appointed
course. I felt I had suddenly strayed into another world. As we
turned in at the lodge gates, John said:
"I'm afraid you'll find it very quiet down here, Hastings."
"My dear fellow, that's just what I want."
"Oh, it's pleasant enough if you want to lead the idle life. I
drill with the volunteers twice a week, and lend a hand at the
farms. My wife works regularly 'on the land'. She is up at five
every morning to milk, and keeps at it steadily until lunchtime.
It's a jolly good life taking it all round--if it weren't for
that fellow Alfred Inglethorp!" He checked the car suddenly, and
glanced at his watch. "I wonder if we've time to pick up
Cynthia. No, she'll have started from the hospital by now."
"Cynthia! That's not your wife?"
"No, Cynthia is a protegee of my mother's, the daughter of an old
schoolfellow of hers, who married a rascally solicitor.
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