led paper packet which was handed to
him, and lit it. He made a wry face, never before having smoked
American tobacco.

"How do you like the flavour?" asked Phineas.

"I think I'd prefer the elephants' house," said Doggie, eyeing the
thing with disgust.

"You'll find it the flavour of the whole British Army," said McPhail.

* * * * *

A few days later the Dean received a letter bearing the pencilled
address of a camp on the south coast, and written by 35792 Pvte. James
M. Trevor, A Company, 2-10th Wessex Rangers. It ran:

"I hope you won't think me heartless for having left you so long
without news of me; but until lately I had the same reasons for
remaining in seclusion as when I last wrote. Even now I'm not
asking for sympathy or reconsideration of my failure or desire
in any way to take advantage of the generosity of you all.

"I have enlisted in the 10th Wessex. Phineas McPhail, whom I met
in London and whose character for good or evil I can better
gauge now than formerly, is a private in the same battalion. I
don't pretend to enjoy the life any more than I could enjoy
living in a kraal of savages in Central Africa. But that is a
matter of no account. I don't propose to return to Durdlebury
till the end of the war. I left it as an officer and I'm not
coming back as a private soldier. I enclose a cheque for L500.
Perhaps Aunt Sophia will be so kind as to use the money--it
ought to last some time--for the general upkeep, wages, etc., of
Denby Hall. I feel sure she will not refuse me this favour. Give
Peggy my love and tell her I hope she will accept the two-seater
as a parting gift. It will make me happier to know that she is
driving it.

"I am keeping on as a _pied a terre_ in London the Bloomsbury
rooms in which I have been living, and I've written to Peddle to
see about making them more comfortable. Please ask anybody who
might care to write to address me as 'James M.' and not as
'Marmaduke.'"

The Dean read the letter--the family were at breakfast; then he took
off his tortoise-shell spectacles and wiped them.

"It's from Marmaduke at last," said he. "He has carried out my
prophecy and enlisted."

Peggy caught at her breath and shot out her hand for the letter, which
she read eagerly and then passed over to her mother. Mrs. Conover
began to cry.

"Oh, the poor boy! It will