ne great
purple cloud, endowed with sinister life by a single white beam striking
up into it from the horizon. Beneath this canopy of cloud a small
phalanx of dusty, dishevelled-looking men and women were drawn up in the
road, guarding, and encouraging with cheers, a tall, black-coated orator.
Before and behind this phalanx, a little mob of men and boys kept up an
accompaniment of groans and jeering.

Lady Casterley and her 'major-domo' stood six paces inside the scrolled
iron gates, and watched. The slight, steel-coloured figure with
steel-coloured hair, was more arresting in its immobility than all the
vociferations and gestures of the mob. Her eyes alone moved under their
half-drooped lids; her right hand clutched tightly the handle of her
stick. The speaker's voice rose in shrill protest against the
exploitation of 'the people'; it sank in ironical comment on
Christianity; it demanded passionately to be free from the continuous
burden of 'this insensate militarist taxation'; it threatened that the
people would take things info their own hands.

Lady Casterley turned her head:

"He is talking nonsense, Clifton. It is going to rain. I shall go in."

Under the stone porch she paused. The purple cloud had broken; a blind
fury of rain was deluging the fast-scattering crowd. A faint smile came
on Lady Casterley's lips.

"It will do them good to have their ardour damped a little. You will get
wet, Clifton--hurry! I expect Lord Valleys to dinner. Have a room got
ready for him to dress. He's motoring from Monkland."

CHAPTER III

In a very high, white-panelled room, with but little furniture, Lord
Valleys greeted his mother-in-law respectfully.

"Motored up in nine hours, Ma'am--not bad going."

"I am glad you came. When is Miltoun's election?"

"On the twenty-ninth."

"Pity! He should be away from Monkland, with that--anonymous woman
living there."

"Ah! yes; you've heard of her!"

Lady Casterley replied sharply:

"You're too easy-going, Geoffrey."

Lord Valleys smiled.

"These war scares," he said, "are getting a bore. Can't quite make out
what the feeling of the country is about them."

Lady Casterley rose:

"It has none. When war comes, the feeling will be all right. It always
is. Give me your arm. Are you hungry?"...

When Lord Valleys spoke of war, he spoke as one who, since he arrived at
years of discretion, had lived within the circle of those who direct the
destinie