the War had brought her was in connection with Russia.
An old gentleman she knew, a tiresome neighbour
whose calls usually bored rather than pleased her, had
hobbled in yesterday and told her, as a tremendous
secret, that Russia was sending a big army to Flanders
_via_ England, through a place called Archangel of
which she had vaguely heard. He had had the news
from Scotland, where a nephew of his had actually
seen and spoken to some Russian officers, the advance
guard, as it were, of these legions!

Mrs. Guthrie was glad this war had come after the
London season was over. Her great pleasure each day
was reading the _Morning_Post,_ and during this last
week that paper had been a great deal too full of war
news. It had annoyed her, too, to learn that the Cowes
Week had been given up. Of course no German yachts
could have competed, but apart from that, why should
not the regatta have gone on just the same? It looked
as if the King (God bless him!) was taking this war
too seriously. Queen Victoria and King Edward would
have had a better sense of proportion. The old lady
kept these thoughts to herself, but they were there, all
the same.

Yes, it was a great pity Cowes had been given up.
Mrs. Guthrie missed the lists of names -- names which
in the majority of cases, unless of course they were
those of Americans and of uninteresting _nouveaux_
_riches,_ recalled pleasant associations, and that even if
the people actually mentioned were only the children
or the grandchildren of those whom she had known in
the delightful days when she had kept house for her
widower brother in Mayfair.

As she turned her old head stiffly round, and saw

[[154]]

p153 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p154w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p155

v?