iest years, and there was
literally no end to the sympathetic interest which she bestowed upon
them. Father and mother might weary of eternal cricket and sixth-form
reminiscences, and impatiently suggest bed or a book. Jean might, and
did, wax frankly cross and bored, but Miggles never failed to produce a
due display of surprise; never denied the expected admiration, nor
shirked a question which gave the conversation a new turn of life. At
this moment Vanna could hear Pat's voice reeling off the everlasting
details:

"Smith, major, was bowling his hardest--he's a terror to bowl--and the
pitch was fast, and a ball got up, and got me on the shoulder--"

"Dear, dear, think of that! And you went on playing? You _are_ brave!
And made a fine score too, I'll be bound!"

How much of Miggles's happiness did she owe to this blessed capacity for
sympathy in the interests of others?

The destination of this afternoon's walk was a little wood lying about a
mile inland, and as a short cut across country, Jean and Piers led the
way through a farmyard, and thence on to a winding lane, sunk deep
between two hedgerows, fragrant with honeysuckle and wild rose. To
right and left lay the fields belonging to the farm; pleasant fields of
wheat and corn, of delicate, green-eared barley, of sweet-smelling
beans.

It was a typical English lane; a perfect English afternoon, not typical,
alas! except so far as it demonstrated the perfection to which our
erratic climate can occasionally attain. The sky overhead was deeply,
uncloudedly blue; the sea in the distance the clear, soft green of an
aquamarine, sparkling with a thousand points of light; all that the eye
could see was beautiful and harmonious; all that the ear could hear,
peaceful and serene; laughter, happy voices, the soaring notes of a
lark; all things animate and inanimate seemed to speak of peace and
happiness; and then suddenly, horribly, the scene changed. What had
appeared the distant lowing of cattle, swelled into a threatening roar;
a man shouted loudly, and his call was echoed by many voices, by a
clamour of sound, by high, warning cries. From the far end of the
narrow lane came the sound of galloping feet--heavy, thundering feet
seeming to shake the ground; light, racing feet pursuing; swifter
footsteps, which were yet mysteriously left behind. Borne on the air
came the cries of men's voices, and ever and anon that deep, dull roar.
Nearer and nearer drew the dang