ed. Here was another typical English gentleman ridding his
conscience of an injustice done to Leonard Boyce.

"Of course I do," said I. "Boyce is a queer fellow. A man with his
exceptional qualities has to be judged in an exceptional way."

"And then," said Sir Anthony, "it's that poor dear old lady that I've
been thinking of. Edith went to see her yesterday afternoon, but found
she had gone up to London. In her frail health it's enough to kill her."

"It won't," said I. "A woman doesn't give birth to a lion without
having something of the lion in her nature."

"I've never thought of that," said Sir Anthony.

"Haven't you?"

His face turned grave and he looked far away over the red-brick
post-office on the opposite side of the square. Then he sighed, looked
at me with a smile, and nodded.

"You're right, Duncan."

"I know I am," said I. "I broke the news to Mrs. Boyce. That's why he
asked me to go up and see him."

Winterbotham appeared--a tall, cadaverous man in a fur coat and a soft
felt hat. He shook hands with me in a melancholy way. In a humbler walk
of life, I am sure he would have been an undertaker.

"Now," said Sir Anthony, "tell us all about your interview with Boyce."

"Before I commit myself," said I, "with the Civic Authorities, will you
kindly inform me what this conference coram publico is all about?"

"Why, my dear chap, haven't I told you?" cried Sir Anthony. "We're
going to give Colonel Boyce a Civic Reception."

CHAPTER XIX

Thenceforward nothing was talked of but the home-coming of Colonel
Boyce. He touched the public imagination. All kinds of stories, some
apocryphal, some having a basis of truth, some authentic, went the
round of the little place. It simmered with martial fervour. Elderly
laggards enrolled themselves in the Volunteer Training Corps. Young
married men who had not attested under the Derby Scheme rushed out to
enlist. The Tribunal languished in idleness for lack of claimants for
exemption. Exempted men, with the enthusiastic backing of employers,
lost the sense of their indispensability and joined the colours. An
energetic lady who had met the Serbian Minister in London conceived the
happy idea of organising a Serbian Flag Day in Wellingsford, and reaped
a prodigious harvest. We were all tremendously patriotic, living under
Boyce's reflected glory.

At first I had deprecated the proposal, fearing lest Boyce might not
find it acceptable. The reputation he had