leen, the colour rising in her face.

"Did you make your own costume?" inquired Mr. Romayne.

"She did that," said Nora, "and mine and mother's, and she makes
father's working shirts."

"Oh, Nora, stop, please. You know I do very little."

"She makes the butter as well."

"They're a pair," said Sam in a low growl, but perfectly audible to the
company, "a regular pair, eh, Joe?"

"Sure t'ing," replied Joe, threatening to go off again into laughter,
but held in check by a glance from Nora.

For an hour they lingered over the meal. Then Nora, jumping up quickly,
took Mrs. Waring-Gaunt with her to superintend the work at the dump,
leaving Mr. Romayne reclining on the grass smoking his pipe in abandoned
content, while Kathleen busied herself clearing away and washing up the
dishes.

"May I help?" inquired Mr. Romayne, when the others had gone.

"Oh, no," replied Kathleen. "Just rest where you are, please; just take
it easy; I'd really rather you would, and there's nothing to do."

"I am not an expert at this sort of thing," said Mr. Romayne, "but at
least I can dry dishes. I learned that much on the veldt."

"In South Africa? You were in the war?" replied Kathleen, giving him a
towel.

"Yes, I had a go at it."

"It must have been terrible--to think of actually killing men."

"It is not pleasant," replied Romayne, shrugging his shoulders, "but it
has to be done sometimes."

"Oh, do you think so? It does not seem as if it should be necessary at
any time," said the girl with great earnestness. "I can't believe it
is either right or necessary ever to kill men; and as for the Boer War,
don't you think everybody agrees now that it was unnecessary?"

Mr. Romayne was always prepared to defend with the ardour of a British
soldier the righteousness of every war in which the British Army has
ever been engaged. But somehow he found it difficult to conduct an
argument in favour of war against this girl who stood fronting him with
a look of horror in her face.

"Well," said Mr. Romayne, "I believe there is something to be said
on both sides. No doubt there were blunders in the early part of the
trouble, but eventually war had to come."

"But that's just it," cried the girl. "Isn't that the way it is
always? In the early stages of a quarrel it is so easy to come to an
understanding and to make peace; but after the quarrel has gone on, then
war becomes inevitable. If only every dispute could be submitted to the
judgme