I had a good day at the office and have never been so loth to leave. I always felt I should get to like my work some time. I arrived home again about six. Celia was a trifle later, and I met her on the mat as she came in. "Any luck?" I asked eagerly, feeling in her muff. "Dash it, Celia, there are nothing but hands here. Do you mean to say you didn't pick up anything at all?" "Only information," she said, leading the way into the drawing-room. "Hallo, what's this? A fire!" "A small involuntary contribution from the office. I brought it home under my hat. Well, what's the news?" "That if we want any coal we shall have to fetch it ourselves. And we can get it in small amounts from greengrocers. Why greengrocers, I don't know." "I suppose they have to have fires to force the cabbages. But what about the striking coal porters? If you do their job, won't they picket you or pickaxe you or something?" "Oh, of course, I should hate to go alone. But I shall be all right if you come with me." Celia's faith in me is very touching. I am not quite so confident about myself. No doubt I could protect her easily against five or six great brawny hulking porters ... armed with coal-hammers ... but I am seriously doubtful whether a dozen or so, aided with a little luck, mightn't get the better of me. "Don't let us be rash," I said thoughtfully. "Don't let us infuriate them." "You aren't afraid of a striker?" asked Celia in amazement. "Of an ordinary striker, no. In a strike of bank-clerks, or--or chess-players, or professional skeletons, I should be a lion among the blacklegs; but there is something about the very word coal porter which---- You know, I really think this is a case where the British Army might help us. We have been very good to it." The British Army, I should explain, has been walking out with Jane lately. When we go away for week-ends we let the British Army drop in to supper. Luckily it neither smokes nor drinks nor takes any great interest in books. It is a great relief, on your week-ends in the country, to _know_ that the British Army is dropping in to supper, when otherwise you might only have suspected it. I may say that we are rather hoping to get a position in the Army Recruiting film on the strength of this hospitality. "Let the British Army go," I said. "We've been very kind to him." "I fancy Jane has left the service. I don't know why." "Probably they quarrelled because she gave him caviare two nights running," I said. "Well, I suppose I shall have to go. But it will be no place for women. To-morrow afternoon I will sally forth alone to do it. But," I added, "I shall probably return with two coal porters clinging round my neck. Order tea for three."