@@@@quote to you Napier's grand words: 'Then was seen
@@@@with what majesty the British soldier fights.'"

Mrs. Otway read the letter right through twice.
Then, slowly, deliberately, she folded it up and put it
back in its envelope. Uncertainly she looked at her
little silk handbag. No, she could not put it there,
where she kept her purse, her engagement book, her
handkerchief. For the moment, at any rate, it would
be safest elsewhere. With a quick furtive movement
she thrust it into her bodice, close to her beating heart.

Mrs. Otway looked up to a sudden sight of Rose --
of Rose unusually agitated.

"Oh, mother," she cried, "such a strange, dreadful,
extraordinary thing has happened! Old Mrs. Guthrie
is dead. The butler telephoned to the Deanery, and
he seems in a dreadful state of mind. Mrs. Haworth
says she can't possibly go out there this morning, and
they were wondering whether you would mind going.
The Dean says he was out there only yesterday, and
that Mrs. Guthrie spoke as if you were one of her
dearest friends. Wasn't that strange?"

Rose looked very much shocked and distressed --
curiously so, considering how little she had known
Mrs. Guthrie. But there is something awe-inspiring
to a young girl in the sudden death of even an old person.
Only three days ago Mrs. Guthrie had entertained
Rose with an amusing account of her first ball --
a ball given at the Irish Viceregal Court in the days
when, as the speaker had significantly put it, it really
_was_ a Court in Dublin. And when Rose and her
mother had said good-bye, she had pressed them to
come again soon; while to the girl: "I don't often see

[[187]]

p186 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p187w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p188

v?