the Tuesday, sinister rumours swept over
Witanbury--rumours that the British had suffered a terrible defeat at a
place called Mons.

In her restlessness and eager longing for news, Mrs. Otway after tea
went into the town. She had an excuse, an order to give in at the
Stores, and there the newly-named Alfred Head came forward, and attended
on her, as usual, himself.

"There seems to be serious news," he said respectfully. "I am told that
the English Army has been encircled, much as was the French Army at
Sedan in 1870."

As he spoke, fixing his prominent eyes on her face, Mr. Head's customer
now suddenly felt an inexplicable shrinking from this smooth-tongued
German-born man.

"Oh, we must hope it is not as bad as that," she exclaimed hastily.
"Have you any real reason for believing such a thing to be true, Mr.
Heg--I mean, Mr. Head?"

And he answered regretfully, "One of my customers has just told me so,
ma'am. He said the news had come from London--that is my only reason
for believing it. We will hope it is a mistake."

* * * * *

After leaving the Stores, Mrs. Otway, following a sudden impulse, began
walking rather quickly down the long street which led out of Witanbury
towards the village where the Guthries lived. Why should she not go out
and pay a late call on the old lady? If any of these dreadful rumours
had reached Dorycote House, Mrs. Guthrie must surely be very much upset.

Her kind thought was rewarded by a sight of the letter Major Guthrie had
left to be posted to his mother on the 18th of August, that is, on the
day when was to be published the news that the Expeditionary Force had
landed safely in France.

The letter was, like its writer, kind, thoughtful, considerate; and as
she read it Mrs. Otway felt a little pang of jealous pain. She wished
that he had written _her_ a letter like that, instead of a rather
ridiculous postcard. Still, as she read the measured, reassuring
sentences, she felt soothed and comforted. She knew that she was not
reasonable, yet--yet it seemed impossible that the man who had written
that letter, and the many like him who were out there, could allow
themselves to be surrounded and captured--by Germans!

"He has also sent me a rather absurd postcard," observed the old lady
casually. "I say absurd because it is not dated, and because he also
forgot to put the name of the place where he wrote it. It simply says
that he is quite well, and t