-Moore read for herself as they
approached the flaunting red banner. 'How perfectly outrageous!'

'How perfectly _silly_!' amended the other, 'when one thinks of that
kind and charming Pillar of Excellence!'

'I told you they were mad as well as bad.'

'I know; and now we're going to watch them prove it. Come on.'

'Why, they've stopped the fountains!' Mrs. Fox-Moore spoke as though
detecting an additional proof of turpitude. 'Those two policemen,' she
went on, in a whisper, 'why are they looking at _us_ like that?'

Vida glanced at the men. Their eyes were certainly fixed on the two
ladies in a curious, direct fashion, not exactly impudent, but still in
a way no policeman had ever looked at either of them before. A coolly
watchful, slightly contemptuous stare, interrupted by one man turning to
say something to the other, at which both grinned. Vida was conscious of
wishing that she had come in her usual clothes--above all, that Janet
had not raked out that 'jumble sale' object she had perched on her head.

The wearer of the incriminatory hat, acting upon some quite unanalyzed
instinct to range herself unmistakably on the side of law and order,
paused as they were passing the two policemen and addressed them with
dignity.

'Is it safe to stop and listen for a few minutes to these people?'

The men looked at Mrs. Fox-Moore with obvious suspicion.

'I cawn't say,' said the one nearest.

'Do you expect any trouble?' she demanded.

There was a silence, and then the other policeman said with a decidedly
snubby air--

'It ain't our business to go _lookin'_ fur trouble;' and he turned his
eyes away.

'Of course not,' said Vida, pleasantly, coming to her sister's rescue.
'All this lady wants to be assured of is that there are enough of you
present to make it safe----'

'If ladies wants to be safe,' said number one, 'they'd better stop in
their 'omes.'

'That's the first rude policeman I ever----' began Mrs. Fox-Moore, as
they went on.

'Well, you know he's only echoing what we all say.'

Vida was looking over the crowd to where on the plinth of the historic
column the little group of women and a solitary man stood out against
the background of the banners. Here they were--these new Furies that
pursued the agreeable men one sat by at dinner--men who, it was well
known, devoted their lives--when they weren't dining--to the welfare of
England. But were these frail, rather depressed-looking women--were they
in