"So we was one time o day, I believe," Ruth answered. "And might be again yet. Who knaws?" He stood over her as she composed herself for the night on the settle. "How long's that Joe going to stop in my house?" he asked. "Just as long as I like," she answered coolly. Next day when Joe came in for tea he found Ruth sitting in the kitchen, nursing little Alice, who was crying her heart out on her mother's shoulder. "They've been tormenting her at school," Ruth explained. "It's Alf." "I'll lay it is," muttered Joe. "Ern and me, we'll just go round when he comes back from work." Ruth looked frightened. "Don't tell Ern for all's sake, Joe!" she whispered. "Why not then?" "He'd kill Alf." Joe's face betrayed his scepticism. "Ah, you don't knaw Ern, when he's mad," Ruth warned him. An hour later Ernie came home. He was still, suppressed, as often now. There was nobody in the kitchen but Ruth. "Where's your Joe, then?" he asked. "He's left," Ruth answered. Ernie relaxed ever so little. "He might ha stopped to say good-bye," he muttered. Ruth rose. "I got something to tell you, Ern," she said. He turned on her abruptly. "It's little Alice. They've been getting at her at school--_that!_--you knaw." Ernie was breathing hard. "Who split?" "Alf. He told Mrs. Ticehurst--I see him; and she told the lot." Ern went out slowly, and slowly up the stairs in the dark to the children's room. A little voice called--"Daddy!" "I'm comin, sweet-heart," he answered tenderly. He felt his way to the child's bed, knelt beside it, and struck a match. A tear like a star twinkled on her cheek. She put out her little arms to him and clasped him round the neck. "Daddy, you _are_ my daddy, aren't you?" she sobbed, her heart breaking in her voice. He laid his cheek against hers. Both were wet. "Of course I am," he answered, the water floods sounding in his throat. "I'm your daddy; and you're my darling. And if we got nobody else we got each other, ain't we?" Ruth, in the dark at the foot of the stairs, heard, gave a great gulp, and crept back to the kitchen. CHAPTER XXIII THE COLONEL FACES DEFEAT The Colonel, who throughout his life while making a great show of radical opinions in the mess for the benefit of his brother-officers had always voted quietly for the Conservative party on the ground that they made upon the whole less of a hash of Imperial affairs than their Liberal opponents was profoundly troubled by the proceedings in Ulster. "The beggars are undermining the _morale_ of Ireland," he told Mr. Trupp. "And only those who've been quartered there know what that means." "If you said they were undermining the foundations of Society I'd agree," the other answered. "Geddes says they've poisoned the wells of civilisation, and he's about right." The Presbyterian minister, indeed, usually so sane and moderate, had been roused to unusual vehemence by the general strike against the law engineered by the Conservative leaders.