lch cows, the
daily pleasure of the milk, morning and evening, the sight of the rich
separated cream, and of the butter as it came fresh from the churn, the
growing weight and sleekness of the calves; all these things gave her a
warm sense of protection against the difficulties and restrictions of the
war. She and Janet were "self-suppliers." No need to bother about ounces
of butter, or spoonfuls of cream. Of course they sold all they could, but
they could still feed their few guests well--better, perhaps, than any of
the folk in the villa houses round Millsborough.

"Yes! and no one's leave to ask!"

She threw out her arms in a vehement gesture as she turned away from the
glass. It was the gesture of a wild bird taking flight.

By which, however, she was not hurling defiance at the gentle but most
efficient little lady who represented the Food Control of the
neighbourhood, and the mere sight of whom was enough to jog uneasy
consciences in the matter of rations. Rachel was long since on the best
of terms with her.

* * * * *

Captain Ellesborough was asked to stay to supper, and gladly accepted.
The vicar and his young sister arrived and were introduced to the
American. Betty and Jenny, alarmed at so much company and the quality of
it, hurriedly asked to be allowed to take their meal in the tiny scullery
behind the living room. But the democratic and dissenting Janet would not
hear of it. There was room for everybody, she said, and while she lived
in it there should only be one table for all who worked on the farm. If
the vicar and Miss Shenstone objected, she was sorry for them. But they
wouldn't object.

So the small living room of the farm was soon full of a merry company:
the two mistresses, in their Sunday frocks, the land girls in their
uniforms, the young vicar in a short coat and round collar, his little
sister of nineteen, who was training to be a missionary, and carried
about with her already the sweet and dedicated look of her calling; and
Ellesborough, a striking and manly figure in full khaki. Ellesborough was
on Rachel's right, the vicar on Janet's; Miss Shenstone sat between the
two girls, and was so far from objecting to their company that she no
sooner found she was to sit next the daughter of her brother's handy-man
than her childish face flushed with pleasure. She had seen Jenny already
at her brother's Bible-class, and she had been drawn to her. Something in
the