They had the most memorable little lunch of their lives there,--with the turgid yellow-gray flood brimming below them, dotted here and there with a great creeping water-beetle of a black barge;--and the gray and black spans of the bridges, up-stream and down, looming in and out of the picture in the wavering sunlight;--and the yellow trams spinning to and fro like shuttles through the gray web of life;--and the tall chimneys and the shot tower on the opposite bank, with the ragged wharves at their feet;--and the Embankment gardens and trees and sauntering mid-day crowds, all just as usual and manifesting no undue concern about anything. “And we’re actually at war with Germany at last,” said Con, as they sat looking down on it all. “I’m glad we’re taking it so quietly,” said Alma. “We mean business.” Their very polite waiter attended punctiliously to all their wants, acknowledging all orders with a grave inclination of the head and never once opening his mouth. He might have been dumb for any evidence they had to the contrary. Between courses he hovered about watchfully, seemed interested in Con’s uniform, and distinctly appreciative of Alma’s nurse’s costume and general appearance. Even Con’s very generous tip he only acknowledged with a final silent bow. When Alma commented on such refinement of taciturnity, Con suggested that he was possibly a German looking forward without enjoyment to a change of occupation which would be less to his taste. They had a delightful run out to Willstead, and Con made best use of his opportunities, having taken care to seat his wife directly behind the driver. All too quickly they were there, taking Mrs Dare Senior’s breath away by the magnitude of their announcement. “Mother--my wife!” was Con’s little way of breaking the news. “I have to leave to-morrow morning so we decided to get married to-day.” “Well!” gasped his mother, and then took Alma to her heart and kissed her warmly. “He never could have made a better choice, dear,” she said. “But it is very sudden.... I hope it is wisely done.” “We think it is, mother,” said Alma joyously. “Whatever happens we have this, and it has made us very happy.” “Have you seen the Colonel?” “Not yet,” said Con. “Mothers come before Uncles. We’ll go along presently and make him jump. Auntie Mitt will probably have a fit.” “Have you had any lunch,--or did this great business make you forget it?” “We had our wedding breakfast at one o’clock in the balcony of the Savoy,” said Alma. “It was delightful.” “Then you’re ready for a cup of tea,” and she rang the bell and ordered it in as quickly as it could be got ready. “But won’t this mean your giving up your post, Alma?” asked Mrs Dare thoughtfully, as soon as she had time to look at the matter all round.