d," she said suddenly at tea to Mr. Carmine.
"I at least am not surprised. I am only surprised it did not come
sooner. If any one had asked me I could have told them, three years,
five years ago."

The day was one of flying rumours, Germany was said to have declared war
on Italy, and to have invaded Holland as well as Belgium.

"They'll declare war against the moon next!" said Aunt Wilshire.

"And send a lot of Zeppelins," said the smallest boy. "Herr Heinrich
told us they can fly thousands of miles."

"He will go on declaring war until there is nothing left to declare war
against. That is exactly what he has always done. Once started he cannot
desist. Often he has had to be removed from the dinner-table for fear of
injury. _Now_, it is ultimatums."

She was much pleased by a headline in the _Daily Express_ that streamed
right across the page: "The Mad Dog of Europe." Nothing else, she said,
had come so near her feelings about the war.

"Mark my words," said Aunt Wilshire in her most impressive tones. "He is
insane. It will be proved to be so. He will end his days in an
asylum--as a lunatic. I have felt it myself for years and said so in
private.... Knowing what I did.... To such friends as I could trust not
to misunderstand me.... Now at least I can speak out.

"With his moustaches turned up!" exclaimed Aunt Wilshire after an
interval of accumulation.... "They say he has completely lost the use of
the joint in his left arm, he carries it stiff like a Punch and
Judy--and he wants to conquer Europe.... While his grandmother lived
there was some one to keep him in order. He stood in Awe of her. He
hated her, but he did not dare defy her. Even his uncle had some
influence. Now, nothing restrains him.

"A double-headed mad dog," said Aunt Wilshire. "Him and his eagles!... A
man like that ought never to have been allowed to make a war.... Not
even a little war.... If he had been put under restraint when I said so,
none of these things would have happened. But, of course I am nobody....
It was not considered worth attending to."

Section 10

One remarkable aspect of the English attitude towards the war was the
disposition to treat it as a monstrous joke. It is a disposition
traceable in a vast proportion of the British literature of the time. In
spite of violence, cruelty, injustice, and the vast destruction and
still vaster dangers of the struggles, that disposition held. The
English mind refused flatly to see