ebury and excluded it from the County. It was
to be County--of the fine inner Arcanum of County--and only Durdlebury
by the grace of Peggy Trevor. No "durdling," as Oliver called it, for
her. Denby Hall was going to be the very latest thing of September,
1915, when she proposed, the honeymoon concluded, to take smart and
startling possession. Lots of Mrs. Trevor's rotten old stuffy
furniture would have to go. Marmaduke would have to revolutionize his
habits. As she would have all kinds of jolly people down to stay,
additions must be made to the house. Within a week after her
engagement she had devised all the improvements. Marmaduke's room,
with a great bay thrown out, would be the drawing-room. The present
drawing-room, nucleus of a new wing, would be a dancing-room, with
parquet flooring; when not used for tangos and the fashionable negroid
dances, it would be called the morning-room; beyond that there would
be a billiard-room. Above this first floor there could easily be built
a series of guest chambers. As for Marmaduke's library, or study, or
den, any old room would do. There were a couple of bedrooms
overlooking the stable yard which thrown into one would do
beautifully.

With feminine tact she dangled these splendours before Doggie's
infatuated eyes, instinctively choosing the opportunity of his
gratitude for soothing treatment. Doggie telegraphed for Sir Owen
Julius, R.A., Surveyor to the Cathedral, the only architect of his
acquaintance. The great man sent his partner, plain John Fox, who
undertook to prepare a design.

Mr. Fox came down to Durdlebury on the 28th of July. There had been a
lot of silly talk in the newspapers about Austria and Serbia, to which
Doggie had given little heed. There was always trouble in the Balkan
States. Recently they had gone to war. It had left Doggie quite cold.
They were all "Merry Widow," irresponsible people. They dressed in
queer uniforms and picturesque costumes, and thought themselves
tremendously important, and were always squabbling among themselves
and would go on doing it till the day of Doom. Now there was more
fuss. He had read in the _Morning Post_ that Sir Edward Grey had
proposed a Conference of the Great Powers. Only sensible thing to do,
thought Doggie. He dismissed the trivial matter from his mind. On the
morning of the 29th he learned that Austria had declared war on
Serbia. Still, what did it matter?

Doggie had held aloof from politics. He regarded them