The Vinney party arrived. It consisted of Mr. Vincent Vinney, a bright young solicitor of twenty-eight; his lately acquired wife, a pretty girl who laughed when he was witty, which was often; his young brother Sidney, a stout, merry youth of nineteen, a bank clerk; and their cousin Miss Simon, the fat girl in the sailor blouse, which was, it seemed, her evening toilette also. (In case some should blame the Vinney brothers for not taking an active part in the war, it may be remarked that the elder supported a wife and the younger a mother, that they represented a class which, for several good reasons, produces fewer soldiers than any other, and that they both belonged to the Clerks' Drill Corps, and wore several flags on their bicycles. And young Mrs. Vinney belonged to a Voluntary Aid Detachment, not at present in working.) They came in with the latest news. The British had been driven back out of a thousand yards of trench they had taken. They hadn't enough ammunition. 'Well,' said Mrs. Frampton, knitting, and really more interested in her heel than in the fortunes of war, 'it's all very dreadful to think of. But I suppose we must leave it in the hands of the Almighty, who always moves in a mysterious way.' (Mrs. Frampton had been brought up evangelically, and so mentioned the Almighty more casually than Kate, who was High, thought fit.) 'Well, what I say is,' said young Mrs. Vinney, who was of a cheerful habit, 'it's not a bit of use being depressed by the news, because no one can ever tell if it's true or not. It's all from that Bureau, and we all know what they are. Why, they said there weren't any Russians in England, when every one knew there were crowds, and they always say the Zepp. raids don't do any damage to factories and arsenals, and every one knows they do. They don't seem to mind _what_ they say.' 'Well, for my part,' Evie said, 'I don't see why we shouldn't all be as chirpy as we can. We can't _help_ by being glum, can we?' 'That's just it,' said Mrs. Vinney. 'Now, there's the theatre. Of course, you know, Vin and I wouldn't go to anything really _festive_ just now, like the _Girl on the Garden Wall_, but I'm not ashamed to say we did go to the _Man Who Stayed Behind_.' 'Why wouldn't you go to anything really festive?' Alix asked, curious as to the psychology of this position. Mrs. Vinney looked round for sympathy. 'Why, what a question! It's not the moment, of course. One wouldn't _like_ to. _You_ wouldn't, would you?' 'Oh, me. I'd go to anything I thought would amuse me.'