to students of human nature, for they are almost invariably true to
type, their virtues and their defects being cast in the same moulds.

But Mrs. Otway was much more original and more impulsive, thus far less
"groovy," than the people among whom her lot was cast. There were even
censorious folk in Witanbury who called her eccentric. She was
generous-hearted, easily moved to enthusiasm, tenacious of her opinions
and prejudices. She had remained young of heart, and her fair, curling
hair, her slight, active figure, and delicately-tinted skin, gave her
sometimes an almost girlish look. Those who met her for the first time
were always surprised to find that Mrs. Otway had a grown-up daughter.

As a girl she had spent two very happy years in Germany, at Weimar, and
she had kept from those far-off days a very warm and affectionate
feeling towards the Fatherland, as also a rather exceptionally good
knowledge both of the German language and of old-fashioned German
literature. Then had come a short engagement, followed by five years of
placid, happy marriage with a minor canon of Witanbury Cathedral. And
then, at the end of those five years, which had slipped by so easily and
so quickly, she had found herself alone, with one little daughter, and
woefully restricted means. It had seemed, and indeed it had been, a
godsend to come across, in Anna Bauer, a German widow who, for a
miraculously low wage, had settled down into her little household, to
become and to remain, not only an almost perfect servant, but as time
went on a most valued and trusted friend.

The fact that Mrs. Otway had been left a legacy by a distant relation,
while making her far more comfortable, had not caused her to alter very
materially her way of life. She had raised Anna's modest wage, and she
was no longer compelled to look quite so closely after every penny.
Also, mother and daughter were now able to take delightful holidays
together. They had planned one such for this very autumn to
Germany--Germany, the country still so dear to Mrs. Otway, which she had
always longed to show her daughter.

It was natural that the news which had burst upon England to-day should
have unsealed the fountain of deep emotion in her nature. Mrs. Otway,
like almost every one she knew, had not believed that there would or
could be a great Continental war, and when that had become, with
stunning suddenness, an accomplished fact, she had felt sure that her
country would remain