ikely. Why can't people say simply that the reason why we're fighting
is partly to uphold decent international principles, and mainly to win
the war--to be a conquering nation, not a conquered one, and to save
ourselves from having an ill-conditioned people like the Germans
strutting all over us. It's a very laudable object, and needs no
camouflage. Sheer Potterism, all this cant and posturing. I'd rather
say, like the _Daily Mail_, that we're fighting to capture the Hun's
trade; that's a lie, but at least it isn't cant.'

'Let them talk,' said Juke lazily. 'Let them jabber and cant. What does
it matter? We're in this thing up to the neck, and every one's got to
relieve themselves in their own way. As long as we get the job done
somehow, a little nonsense-talk more or less won't make much difference
to this mighty Empire, which has always indulged in plenty. It's the rash
coming out; good for the system.'

So, each individual in his own way, the nation entered into the worst
period of time of which Europe has so far had experience, and on which I
do not propose to dwell in these pages except in its aspect of a source
of profit to those who sought profit; its more cheerful aspect, in fact.

3

Mrs. Potter put away the writing of fiction, as unsuitable in these
dark days. (It may be remembered that there was a period at the
beginning of the war when it was erroneously supposed that fiction
would not sell until peace returned). Mrs. Potter, like many other
writers, took up Y.M.C.A. canteen work, and went for a time to France.
There she wrote _Out There_, an account of the work of herself and her
colleagues in Rouen, full of the inimitable wit and indomitable courage
of soldiers, the untiring activities of canteen workers, and the
affectionate good-fellowship which existed between these two classes.
The world was thus shown that Leila Yorke was no mere _flaneuse_ of
letters, but an Englishwoman who rose to her country's call and was
worthy of her men-folk.

Clare became a V.A.D., and went up to town every day to work at an
officers' hospital. It was a hospital maintained partly by Mr. Potter,
and she got on very well there. She made many pleasant friends, and hoped
to get out to France later.

Frank tried for a chaplaincy.

'It isn't a bit that he wants excitement, or change of air, or a free
trip to France, or to feel grand, like some of them do,' explained Mrs.
Frank. 'Only, what's the good of keeping a man like