ertainer."

Fortunately, as Ingred stepped out of the College on that first Friday
afternoon, the fresh breeze and the bright September sunshine blew away
the cobwebs, and sent her almost dancing down the street. She had a
naturally buoyant disposition, and her uppermost thought was: "I'm going
home! I'm going home! Hurrah!"

The journey was really quite a little business. She had to take a tram
to the Waterstoke terminus, then change on to a light electric railway
that ran along the roadside for seven miles to Wynch-on-the-Wold.
Grovebury, an old town that dated back to mediaeval times, lay in a deep
hollow among a rampart of hills, so that, in whatever direction you left
it, you were obliged to climb. The scenery was very beautiful, for trees
edged the river, and clothed the slopes till they gave way to the gorse
and heather of the wild moorlands. Wynch-on-the-Wold was a hamlet which,
since the opening of the electric railway, was just beginning to turn
into a suburb of Grovebury. Close to the terminus neat villas had sprung
up like mushrooms; there were a few shops and a branch post office, and
a brass plate to the effect that Dr. Whittaker had consulting hours
twice a week. Tradesmen's carts drove out constantly, and the electric
railway did quite a little business in the conveyance of parcels.

Wynchcote, the house where the Saxons had retired to try their scheme of
retrenchment, lay at some little distance beyond the terminus, and might
be considered the outpost of the new suburb. It was a small, picturesque
modern bungalow; Mr. Saxon had built it as an architectural experiment,
intending it for a sort of model country cottage. The tenants who had
occupied it during the period of the war had just returned to Scotland,
so, as it was vacant, it had seemed a convenient place in which to
settle. It was near enough to Grovebury to allow him to attend his
office, and far enough away to cut them adrift from old associations.
After four and a half years of war work, Mrs. Saxon wanted a complete
rest from committees, creches, canteens, and recreation huts, and would
be glad to urge the excuse of distance to those who appealed for her
help. Perhaps also she felt that in their straitened circumstances it
was wiser to live where they could not enter into social competition
with their former acquaintances.

"I just want to be quiet, to attend to my family, and to enjoy the moors
and our garden," she declared. "I believe I'm