large percentage would tackle such a life? Believe me, these
days, none of us want to keep land very much." Sir James frowned
slightly. "Unless one has old family traditions. . . . And even those
will have to go by the board--sooner or later. . . . It doesn't pay,
Vane, you can take it from me. . . . And to split it up into small
holdings, and invite men of varying degrees of inefficiency to earn a
livelihood on it, won't help matters."

Sir James pushed back his chair and they rose from the table.

"I have victimised you enough, my dear boy," he remarked. "I think
Joan had better carry on the good work." She put her arm round his
waist, and her father looked down at her lovingly. "What are you going
to do with him, old lady?"

"Are you busy, Dad, this afternoon?" she asked.

Sir James nodded, and he seemed to Vane to have grown very old. "The
old order is changing--what are they going to put in its place? . . ."
A sudden fear caught him in its grip. He turned quickly and stared out
of the window; at the wonderful bit of England that lay before him.
Quiet and smiling in the warm sun, it lay there--a symbol of the thing
for which Englishmen have laid down their lives since time started. At
that very second men were dying for it--over the water. Was it all to
be in vain?

"Yes, girlie," Sir James was speaking. "I've got a lot of business to
attend to. That wretched fellow Norton can't pay his rent again. . . ."

"Oh! Dad, he is a bit steep," cried the girl. "That's the third time."

Sir James laughed. "I know, my dear; but things are bad. After all,
he has lost one of his sons in Mesopotamia."

"A drunken waster," cried the girl.

"He died, Joan," said her father simply. "No man may do more."

"You're too kind-hearted, Dad," she said, patting his arm, and looking
up into his face. "I wouldn't be."

Sir James laughed. "Oh! yes, you would. Besides, I sha'n't have a
chance much longer." With a quick sigh, he bent and kissed her. "Run
along and take Vane out on the lake. I'll come down later and shout at
you from the bank." She watched her father leave the room, and then
she turned to Vane.

"Would you care to come on the lake?" she asked, and in her eyes there
was a strange, inscrutable look which set him wondering.

"I'd love it," said Vane. He followed her into the open window and
together they stepped on to the lawn.

Aunt Jane had already taken her usual position, preparatory t