idered and trimmed with crochet
lace by good old Anna's clever hands. Mrs. Otway had a curious
sensation, one she very, very seldom had--that of being dismissed.
Somehow it was clear that Rose was not as interested in the piece of
good news as her mother had thought she would be. And so Mrs. Otway went
downstairs again, grieving a little at her child's curious, cold
indifference to the lot of one who had been so much in and out of their
house during the last two years.

Eager for sympathy, she went into the kitchen. "Oh, Anna," she
exclaimed, "Mr. Blake is going into the Army after all! I'm so pleased.
He is so happy!"

"Far more than Major Guthrie young Mr. Blake the figure of a good
officer has," observed Anna thoughtfully. Anna had always liked Jervis
Blake. In the old days that now seemed so long ago he would sometimes
come with Miss Rose into her kitchen, and talk his poor, indifferent
German. Then they all three used to laugh heartily at the absurd
mistakes he made.

And now, to her mistress's astonishment, old Anna suddenly burst into
loud, noisy sobs.

"Anna, what _is_ the matter?"

"Afflicted I am----" sobbed the old woman. And then she stopped, and
began again: "Afflicted I am to think, gracious lady, of that young
gentleman, who to me kind has been, killing the soldiers of my country."

"I don't suppose he will have the chance of killing any of them," said
Mrs. Otway hastily. "You really mustn't be so silly, Anna! Why, the War
will be over long before Mr. Blake is ready to go out. They always keep
the young men two years at Sandhurst. That's the name of the officers'
training college, you know."

Anna wiped her eyes with her apron. She was now ashamed of having cried.
But it had come over her "all of a heap," as an English person would
have said.

She had had a sort of vision of that nice young gentleman, Mr. Jervis
Blake, in the thick of battle, cutting down German men and youths with a
sword. He was so big and strong--it made her turn sick to think of it.
But her good mistress, Mrs. Otway, had of course told the truth. The War
would be over long before Mr. Jervis Blake and his kind would be fit to
fight.

Fighting, as old Anna knew well, though most of the people about her
were ignorant of the fact, requires a certain apprenticeship, an
apprenticeship of which these pleasant-spoken, strong, straight-limbed
young Englishmen knew nothing. The splendidly trained soldiers of the
Fatherland would ha