he could support the privation with fortitude and hoped its annals
might be closed with that felicitous generalization, but Mrs. Nares had
recollected her husband's gallant attempt to be accepted as a chaplain
and the Bishop's gracefully worded inability to spare him, with a
postscript in his own writing to commend such spirit in a man of
sixty-two and to hold him up as an example to his juniors.

Eric made mental notes of Mrs. Nares and memorized some of her more
engaging mannerisms. If he could work her up, he could find room for
her; but he must also find some one to play her with a breathless,
unpunctuated patter; Kitty Walters seemed to have gone to America for
good, but Dorothy Martlet could take the part. . . . The whole dinner,
the atmosphere of the place were a satire on life in a remote
country-house. He wondered what the party at Crawleigh Abbey was
like. . . .

An unforeseen question rebuked his inattention. Eric disposed of it
skilfully; but the thread of thought was snapped, and he looked round
the table to see what had been happening since his reverie began. Agnes
had been set at liberty by Geoff and was watching Eric as he watched the
others. Their eyes met, and both smiled.

"Conscription between your father and Benyon over Sybil's body," he
murmured, disentangling the conversations. "Needlework Guild between the
guv'nor and Mrs. Nares. Poor old guv'nor. . . . V.A.D. training between
mother and the vicar. '_Naval Occasions_' between your mother and Geoff.
D'you ever feel you'd like to stir all this up with a pole, Agnes? We're
too far from the coast for an air-raid. . . . And, if you had one, no
one would ever talk about anything else for the rest of his life; it
would be like the Famine in Ireland or the Wesley descent on Cornwall."
A maid, squeezing through the inadequate fairway behind the chairs,
bumped Eric's back and made him spill his wine. "This place gets on my
nerves!" he added irritably.

Out of the corner of her eye Agnes looked at his mobile, discontented
face and crumbled her bread in silence for a moment.

"Don't give up coming here altogether," she pleaded.

Eric sipped his wine thoughtfully and avoided her eyes. Here was an
opportunity, had he cared to take it, for opening up a greater intimacy
with Agnes; but his mind was unconcentrated and he did not know what he
wanted.

"I suppose I shall come down from time to time," he answered vaguely.

"I've been so looking forward to h