"Mr Anderson-James keeps this place as a hobby. He's retired from practice," the woman went on, "and he likes to come here for fresh air. When you've rested I'll show you round the houses--if you're interested in a dairy-farm." "I'm most interested," declared the girl. "I don't want to rest. I'd rather see the farm, if it is quite convenient to you to show it to me." "Oh, quite, miss," was the woman's prompt response. She came from Devonshire, as Ella had quickly detected, and was an artist in butter-making, the use of the mechanical-separator, and the management of poultry. The pair went out at once and, passing by clean asphalt paths, went to the range of model cowhouses, each scrupulously clean and well-kept. Then to the piggeries, the great poultry farm away in the meadows, and, lastly, into the white-tiled dairy itself, where four maids in white smocks and caps were busy with butter, milk, and cream. Ranged along one side of the great dairy were about thirty galvanised-iron chums of milk, ready for transport, and Ella, noting them, asked their destination. "Oh! They go each night to the training-camp at B--. They go out in two lots, one at midnight, and one at two o'clock in the morning." "Oh, so you supply the camp with milk, do you?" "Yes. Before the war all our milk went up to London Bridge by train each night, but now we supply the two camps. There are fifty thousand men in training there, they say. Isn't it splendid!" added the woman, the fire of patriotism in her eyes. "There's no lack of pluck in the dear old country." "No, Mrs Dennis. All of us are trying to do our bit," Ella said. "Does the Army Service Corps fetch the milk?" "No, miss. They used to, but for nearly six weeks we've sent it in waggons ourselves. The camp at B--is ten miles from here, so it comes rather hard on the horses. It used to go in motor-lorries. Old Thomas, the man bending down over there," and she pointed across the farm-yard, "he drives the waggon out at twelve, and Jim Jennings--who only comes of an evening--does the late delivery." "But the road is rather difficult from here to the camp, isn't it?" asked the girl, as though endeavouring to recollect. "Yes. That's just it. They have to go right round by Shipborne to avoid the steep hill." Five minutes later they were in the comfortable farm-house again, and, after a further chat, Ella went forth to see how her companion was progressing. The repair had been concluded--thanks to the coal-hammer! Ella took it back, thanked the affable Mrs Dennis, and, five minutes later, the pair were on their way to London, perfectly satisfied with the result of their investigations.