r. And it takes
all I know to do the drudgery work he gives me. And then he is
always coming down upon me. It delights him to find me out in a
howler--makes him, in fact, quite good-tempered for twenty
minutes.

'As to the rest of the family, there is a charming boy and
girl--twins of nineteen, the boy just off to an artillery camp
after his cadet training; the girl extremely pretty and
distinguished, and so far inclined to think me an intruder and a
nuisance. How to get round her I don't exactly know, but I
daresay I shall manage it somehow. If she would only set up a
love-affair I could soon get the whip-hand of her!

'Then there is the priceless butler, with whom I have already
made friends. I seem to have a taste for butlers, though I've
never lived with one. He is fifty-two and a volunteer, in stark
opposition to the Squire, who jeers at him perpetually. Forest
takes it calmly, seems even in a queer way to be attached to his
queer master. But he never misses a drill for anybody or any
weather, and when he's out, the under-housemaid "buttles" for
him like a lamb. The fact is, of course, that he's been here for
twenty years, and the Squire couldn't get on for a day without
him, or thinks he couldn't. So that his position is, as you may
say, strongly entrenched, and counter-attacks are useless.

'The married daughters--Mrs. Gaddesden, who, I think, is an
Honourable, and Mrs. Strang--are coming to-morrow to see their
brother before he goes into camp. The Squire doesn't want them
at all. Ah, there he comes! I'll finish later...'

* * * * *

The Squire came in--to use one of the Homeric similes of which he
was so fond--'like a lion fresh from a slain bull, bespattered with
blood and mire.' He had gone out pale, he returned crimson, rubbing
his hands and in great excitement. And it was evident that he had by
now formed the habit of talking freely to his secretary. For he went
up to her at once.

'Well, now they know what to expect!' he said, his eyes glittering,
and all his thick hair on his small peaked head standing up in a
high ridge, like the crest of a battle-helmet.

'Who are "they"?' asked Elizabeth, smiling, as she quietly pushed
her letter a little further under the blotting-paper.

'The County Council idiots--no, the Inspector fellow they're sending
round.'

'And wha