Once, when with the Dean, she got very near the subject. In fact, she ventured to say a word expressive of her belief that British troops _were_ to be sent to France. But he snubbed her with a sharpness very unlike his urbane self. "Nonsense!" he cried. "There isn't the slightest thought of such a thing. Any small force we could send to the Continent would be useless--in fact, only in the way!" "Then why does Lord Kitchener ask for a hundred thousand men?" "For home defence," said the Dean quickly, "only for home defence, Mrs. Otway. The War Office is said to regard it as within the bounds of possibility that England may be invaded. But I fancy the Kaiser is far too truly attached to his mother's country to think of doing anything _really_ to injure us! I am sure that so intelligent and enlightened a sovereign understands our point of view--I mean about Belgium. The Kaiser, without doubt, was overruled by the military party. As to our sending our Army abroad--why, millions are already being engaged in this war! So where would be the good of our small army?" That had been on Sunday, only two days after Major Guthrie had gone. And now, it being Wednesday, Mrs. Otway bethought herself that she ought to fulfil her promise with regard to his mother. Somehow she had a curious feeling that she now owed a duty to the old lady, and also--though that perhaps was rather absurd--that she would be quite glad to see any one who would remind her of her kind friend--the friend whom she missed more than she was willing to admit to herself. But of course her friend's surprising kindness and thought for her had made a difference to her point of view, and had brought them, in a sense, very much nearer the one to the other. In fact Mrs. Otway was surprised, and even a little hurt, that Major Guthrie had not written to her once since he went away. It was the more odd as he very often _had_ written to her during former visits of his to London. Sometimes they had been quite amusing letters. She put on a cool, dark-grey linen coat and skirt, and a shady hat, and then she started off for the mile walk to Dorycote. * * * * * It was a very warm afternoon. Old Mrs. Guthrie, after she had had her pleasant little after-luncheon nap, established herself, with the help of her maid, under a great beech tree in the beautiful garden which had been one of the principal reasons why Major Guthrie had chosen this house at Dorycote for his mother. The old lady was wearing a pale lavender satin gown, with a lace scarf wound about her white hair and framing her still pretty pink and white face. During the last few days the people who composed Mrs. Guthrie's little circle had been too busy and too excited to come and see her. But she thought it likely that to-day some one would drop in to tea. Any one would be welcome, for she was feeling a little mopish.