Miss Mitten unclasped her hands and waved them at him in gentle deprecation, saying almost with a sob, “I am sorry, Sir Anthony. I stand rebuked. The matter had not presented itself to me in that light. But I assure you I was thinking of you all rather than of myself, or indeed of anybody else. I was in the wrong. I see it.” “You never thought of yourself before anybody else in all your life, my dear,” said the Colonel gallantly. “We know you were thinking only of us. But all the same, as you see, it would be an unpatriotic thing to do and we will set our faces against it. If prices go up--as they will--we’ll pay ’em. If supplies run short we’ll do the best we can. We can always fall back on porridge,”--which was Miss Mitten’s particular detestation. “It is said to be very sustaining,” she said meekly, at which he choked violently through politely endeavouring to swallow a chuckle. “How’ll we be off for men, sir?” asked Noel. “Short as the dev--the deuce, my boy. Have you heard from your London Scottish yet?” “Not yet, sir. There’s hopes of a Second Battalion, but it’s not decided yet. I shall go up again to-morrow----” “I’ll go with you,” said Gregor, with sudden decision. “And we’ll sit on their door-step till they make up their minds and take us on. Golf and tennis are off, my children,”--with a nod at the girls. “It’s pipes and sporrans and skean-dhus now, and ‘Up with the Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee!’” “Good lads! When the need is known they’ll all come flocking up. The trouble is that you can’t make even volunteers into fighting-men without training. We ought to have had you all at it years ago. Then we’d be ready now.” “We’ll do our best, and pick it all up as fast as we can. It’ll be better business than footling about the links anyway,” said Noel. “Rather!” said Gregor. And the girls took no umbrage at that, but they seemed a trifle quieter than usual. XI Dr Connal Dare was striding along the passage leading to the general room when he met old Jackson. He and old Jackson met in that passage every morning, and always the same thing occurred. Old Jackson, with the fatigues of another night of hideous dreams still heavy upon him, awaited Con’s coming with anxious face. As soon as he saw him in the distance his dull face lightened with a look of expectancy. And at sight of him Con’s face began to crinkle up amusedly at the corners of the eyes. “Doctor! Won’t you smile for me?” the old man asked, as they drew near one another, and Con set his broad shoulders to the wall and laughed out in spite of himself and the regularity of the proceeding. The weary old eyes gazed up at him intently, and the woe-begone old face lost some of its over-carefulness. A twisted grin flickered over it, as if in spite of itself, and then he said, “Thank you, Doctor! Sight o’ you does me a sight o’ good,” and shambled off re-inspirited, while Con, with the crinkles still in the corners of his eyes, continued his rounds.