But Jervis Blake was different. Jervis she had
known more or less always, owing to that early girlish
friendship between his mother and her mother. When
he had come to "Robey's" to be coached, Mrs. Otway
had made him free of her house, and though she herself,
not unnaturally, did not find him an interesting
companion, he soon had become part of the warp and
woof of Rose's young life. Like most only children,
she had always longed for a brother or a sister; and
Jervis was the nearest possession of the kind to which
she had ever attained.

Yes, the War was coming very near to Rose Otway,
and for more than one reason. As soon as she got up
she sat down and wrote a long letter to a girl friend
who was engaged to a naval officer. She had suddenly
realised with a pang that this girl, of whom she
was really fond, must now be feeling very miserable
and very anxious. Every one seemed to think there
would soon be a tremendous battle between the British
and the German fleets. And the Dean, who had been
to Kiel last year, believed that the German sailors
would give a very good account of themselves.

The daily papers were delivered very early in Witanbury
Close. And after she had helped old Anna as
far as Anna would allow herself to be helped in the
light housework with which she began each day, Rose
went out and stood by the gate. She longed to know
what news, if any, there was.

But the moments went slowly by, and with the exception
of a milk cart which clattered gaily along,
the Close remained deserted. Half-past seven in the
morning, even on a fine August day, saw a good many

[[109]]

p108 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p109w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p110

v?