morrow."

"Yes," said Mrs. Van Homrey, "it doesn't seem easy to take it any other
way than seriously; not if one's on the British side. And, for the
matter of that, if I know the Teuton, they are taking it pretty
seriously in East Anglia, and--and in Berlin."

And up till now, I had been thinking of the extra Sunday work for
Wardle, and the way they had started selling peacocks' feathers and
things, in the streets!

XV

SUNDAY NIGHT IN LONDON

. . .

"Ah," they cry, "Destiny,
Prolong the present!
Time, stand still here!"

The prompt stern Goddess
Shakes her head, frowning;
Time gives his hour-glass
Its due reversal;
Their hour is gone.

MATTHEW ARNOLD.

I stayed to dinner at the flat in South Kensington, and after dinner,
when I spoke of leaving, Constance Grey asked if I would care to
accompany her into Blackfriars. She wanted to call at Printing House
Square, and ascertain what further news had arrived. The implied
intimacy and friendliness of the suggestion gave me a pleasurable
thrill; it came as something of a reinstatement for me, and compensated
for much. Constance Grey's views of me had in some way become more
important to me than anything else. I was even now more concerned about
that than about the news.

We made the journey by omnibus. I suggested a cab, as in duty bound,
but, doubtless with a thought of my finances, my companion insisted upon
the cheaper way. We had some trouble to get seats, but found them at
last on a motor omnibus bound for Whitechapel. The streets were densely
crowded, and the Bank Holiday spirit which I had remarked before was now
general, and much more marked.

"It reminds me exactly of 'Mafeking Night,'" I said, referring to that
evening of the South African war during which London waxed drunk upon
the news of the relief of Mafeking.

"Was it as bad even then?" said my companion. And her question showed
me, what I might otherwise have overlooked, that a good deal of water
had passed under the bridges since South African war days. We had been a
little ashamed of our innocent rowdiness over the Mafeking relief. We
had become vastly more inconsistent and less sober since then. I think
the "Middle Class Music Halls" had taken their share in the progress, by
breaking down much of the staid reserve and self-restraint of the
respectable middle class. But, of course, on