"Why can't he touch me? Why can't he give me what I want? Is it my fault? Whose fault is it?" And when she came to Uncle John she was almost afraid to look at him lest he should see the unhappiness in her eyes. But, in spite of her unhappiness, she could be satirically observant. Her grandmother, up there on the wall, controlled, like the moon, this tide of human beings. They flowed forward, they retreated. About them, around them, behind and in front of them hovered this War.... Rachel knew that it was the Beaminster doctrine that anything that occurred to the nation was to be attributed, in the main, to Beaminster principles. She could tell at once that they had seized upon this war as an example of Beaminster government. Had diplomacy prevented it, behold the triumph of Beaminster diplomacy; now, as it had not been prevented, a swift and total triumph would assert the genius of Beaminster militancy. "A week out there ought to be enough.... It's tiresome, of course, but they'll soon have had enough of it...." Even Rachel, looking up at the portrait, might, not too fantastically, imagine that this war presented the last great manifestation of power on the part of that old woman. Everyone in the room, perhaps, felt the same. II Many eyes were upon her as she moved across to Lord John. This girl, with the foreign colour and bearing, having, apparently, so little of the Beaminster about her and making so quickly so conventional a marriage ("One hadn't expected her to care about a man like Seddon"), stirred their curiosity. Monty Carfax, licensed transmitter of public opinion, reported her unpopular. "Met her one week-end at the Massiters'--that very time when Seddon proposed. Didn't like her and, really, can't find anyone who does. Conceited, farouche. It's my opinion Roddy Seddon finds her difficult." "Yes, but she's interesting," someone would reply, "unusual. Dissatisfied-looking--not at all happy, I should say." Lady Adela, stiff, awkward but important, in an ugly grey dress found Lord Crewner the only helpful person in the room. He seemed to understand the way that worries accumulated about one and yet refused to be defined.... He stayed near her throughout the afternoon. She saw Rachel moving across to her brother and the sight of her stirred all her discomfort. "Why need she look as though she hated everyone?" she thought. Rachel came at length to Uncle John and found him talking to Maurice Garden. That large and prosperous gentleman hastily proclaimed his delight in meeting Rachel again, but she had very little to say to him. He left them, secretly determined that he would never speak to the girl again if he could help it. Uncle John regarded her with an air of supplicating nervousness. "Come along, my dear," he said. "We haven't had a talk for weeks. Let's find a corner somewhere----"