f his own office, already shut up, and his glance was
sardonic. Mr. Enwright sat alone in the principals' room, John Orgreave
being abroad in London in pursuit of George's two landlords--the
landlord of his house and the landlord of his office--neither of whom
had yet been brought to see that George's caprice for a military career
entitled him in the slightest degree to slip out of contracts
remunerative to the sacred caste of landlords. Lucas & Enwright had
behaved handsomely to George, having taken everything over, assumed all
responsibilities, and allotted to George more than a fair share of
percentages. And John Orgreave, who in his rough provincial way was an
admirable negotiator, had voluntarily busied himself with the affair of
the resilition of George's leases.

"Not gone, then?" Mr. Enwright greeted him. "Well, you'd better be
going, or I shan't get my chance of being Vice-President."

"What do you mean?"

"Orgreave was at a committee at the Institute this morning. It seems you
might have been the next Vice, in spite of your tender years, if you'd
stayed. You're becoming the rage, you know."

"Am I?" said George, startled.

He hungered for further details of this great and highly disturbing
matter, but Enwright, jealous by nature and excusably jealous by reason
of the fact that despite his immense artistic reputation he had never
succeeded in being even Vice-President of the Institute, would say no
more. Indeed he took a malicious pleasure in saying no more.

The ageing man, more hypochondriacal, thinner, and more wrinkled than
ever, was full to the brim of one subject--India. Somebody at the India
Office had flattered him by showing a knowledge of his work. The India
Office had very graciously agreed to the transfer of the barracks
enterprise to Lucas & Enwright, and now Mr. Enwright was for going to
India himself. He had never been there. Indian scenery, Indian manners,
Indian architecture boiled in his brain. The menace of German raiders
would not prevent him from going to India. He had already revisited the
photographs of Indian buildings at South Kensington Museum. Moreover, he
had persuaded himself that the erection of the barracks formed an urgent
and vital part of British war activity.

At the same time he was convinced that the war would soon end, and in
favour of Germany. He assumed, as being beyond doubt, that a German army
would occupy Paris, and when George, with a wave of the hand, pushed t