'It is lovely, and George St. Mabyn is a lucky fellow. But _a propos_ of our conversation, George does not know which county his family came from originally, Cornwall or Devon. St. Mabyn, you know, is a Cornish parish, and I suppose that some of the St. Mabyns came to Devonshire from Cornwall three centuries ago. That reminds me, he is dining with us to-night. If I mistake not, he is a bit gone on a lady who's staying at my house,--fascinating girl she is, too; but whether she'll have him or not, I have my doubts.' 'Why?' I asked. 'Oh, she was engaged to his elder brother, who was killed in Egypt, and who was heir to the estate. It was awfully sad about Maurice,--fine fellow he was. But there was a row with the Arabs up by the Nile somewhere, and Maurice got potted.' 'And George not only came into the estate, but may also succeed to his brother's sweetheart?' I laughed. 'That's so. It's years ago now since Maurice's regiment was sent to Egypt, and the engagement, so I am informed, was fixed up the night before he went.' 'And is George St. Mabyn a good chap?' 'Oh, yes. He was a captain in the Territorials before the war broke out, and was very active in recruiting last autumn. In November he got sent to Ypres, and had a rough time there, I suppose. He was there until two months ago, when he was wounded. He's home on leave now. This war's likely to drag on, isn't it? We've been at it nine months, and there are no signs of the Germans crumbling up.' 'From all I can hear,' I said, 'it was touch and go with us a little while ago. If they had broken through our lines at Ypres, we should have been in a bad way.' 'My word, we should! Still, the way our fellows stuck it was magnificent.' The car entered the drive just then which led to Sir Roger's place, and after passing more than a mile through fine park land, we swept up to an old, grey stone mansion. 'You possess one of the finest specimens of an Old English home that I know, Sir Roger,' I said. 'Yes, I do,' and there was a touch of pride in his voice. 'I love every stone of it,--I love every outbuilding,--I love every acre of the old place. I suppose it's natural, too,--my people have lived here so long. Heavens! suppose the Germans were to get here, and treat it as they have treated the old French chateaux! Hallo, here we are!' and he shouted to some people near the house. 'You see I have brought the orator with me!' We alighted from the car, and made our way towards three ladies who sat in a secluded nook on the lawn. One I knew immediately as Lady Granville, the other two were strangers to me. But as they will figure more or less prominently in this story, and were closely associated with the events which followed, it will be necessary for me to give some description of them. CHAPTER III THE STRANGE BEHAVIOUR OF GEORGE ST. MABYN