s mother, suavely.
"If you are my sons I must say you make uncommonly poor liars."

Sir Peter, whose attention had wandered to tender places in the lawn,
looked up sharply.

"What's that? What's that?" he asked. "Been telling lies, have they? A
nice way you've brought 'em up, Sarah! What have they been lying about?
A woman? Because if they have, I won't hear a word about it! Lies about
a woman are perfectly correct, though I'm hanged if I can see how they
can all three be lying about one woman. That seems a bit thick, I must
say."

To Sir Peter's surprise, nobody made any reply. Charles yawned, James
whistled, and Winn kept his eyes steadily fixed on Lady Staines.

"Those were orders then," Lady Staines observed in a dry quiet voice. "I
thought it very likely. I suppose it's Germany. I felt sure we should
have trouble with that excitable young man sooner or later. He had too
good an opinion of himself to be an emperor."

"Not Ulster!" exclaimed Sir Peter. "God bless my soul--not Ulster!"

"Oh, we can take on Ulster afterwards," said James reassuringly. "Now
we'll see what submarines can do; 'member the Japs?"

"Winn," said Lady Staines, "before you're off, say good-by to your
wife."

Winn frowned, and then he said, "All right, Mother," and left them.

It was a very still evening, the scent of new mown hay and the
mysterious sweetness of the starry white tobacco plant haunted the
delicate air.

Winn found Estelle lying down by the open window. He had not been in her
room for some time. He sat down by the sofa, and fingered the tassels at
her waist.

"Is anything the matter?" she asked coldly.

He had only himself to thank that she was cold--he knew that. He saw so
plainly now, all the mistakes he'd made, that the ones Estelle had made,
receded into the distance. He'd never been gentle to her. Even when he
thought he loved her, he wasn't really gentle.

Gentleness was superlative kindness, and no woman who had not had just
that sort of kindness from the man she married, could help being rather
nasty. He had owed it to Estelle--no matter whether she told him the
truth or not.

"Look here, Estelle," he began. "I want our boy to go to Charterhouse."

It wasn't exactly what he meant to say, but it was something; he had
never called Peter "our boy" before. Estelle did not notice it.

"Of course, I should prefer Eton," she said, "but I suppose you will do
as you like--as usual!"

Winn dropped the piece of