asked.

"See what?"

"That Captain Ross was killed in action."

"Oh, no," gasped his mother, white and shuddering. "Oh, Michael, how
horrible, and on the same day."

"The same day as what?"

Mrs. Fane looked at her son for a moment very intently, as if she were
minded to tell him something. Then the parlour-maid came into the room,
and she seemed to change her mind, and finally said in perfectly
controlled accents:

"The same day as the announcement is made that--that your old friend
Lord Saxby has raised a troop of horse--Saxby's horse. He is going to
Africa almost at once."

"Another gentleman going to be killed for the sake of these rowdy swine
at home!" said Michael savagely.

"Michael! What do you mean? Don't you admire a man for--for trying to do
something for his country?"

"It depends on the country," Michael answered, "If you think it's worth
while doing anything for what England is now, I don't. I wouldn't raise
a finger, if London were to be invaded to-morrow."

"I don't understand you, dearest boy. You're talking rather like a
Radical, and rather like old Conservative gentlemen I remember as a
girl. It's such a strange mixture. I don't think you quite understand
what you're saying."

"I understand perfectly what I'm saving," Michael contradicted.

"Well, then I don't think you ought to talk like that. I don't think
it's kind or considerate to me and, after you've just heard about
Captain Ross's death, I think it's irreverent. And I thought you
attached so much importance to reverence," Mrs. Fane added in a
complaining tone.

Michael was vexed by his mother's failure to understand his point of
view, and became harder and more perverse every minute.

"Lord Saxby would be shocked to hear you talking like this, shocked and
horrified," she went on.

"I'm very sorry for hurting Lord Saxby's feelings," said Michael with
elaborate sarcasm. "But really I don't see that it matters much to him
what I think."

"He wants to see you before he sails," said Mrs, Fane.

"To see me? Why?" gasped Michael. "Why on earth should he want to see
me?"

"Well, he's--he's in a way the head of our family."

"He's not taken much interest in me up to the present. It's rather odd
he should want to see me now when he's going away."

"Michael, don't be so bitter and horrid. Lord Saxby's so kind, and
he--and he--might never come back."

"Dearest mother," said Michael, "I think you're a little unreasonable.
Why s