"Do you know, Frieda," Jack whispered when they were safe from being overheard, "I would give a great deal if Bryan and Olive would learn to care for each other. Ordinarily I think it is horrid to be a matchmaker, but Bryan and Olive are both so lovely and you don't know what it would mean to me to have Olive live near me. It is heavenly these days, having you both here. You can't realize how lonely I get for you and my own country sometimes." Frieda looked critically over at Captain MacDonnell and Olive, who were standing close beside each other talking earnestly. In spite of Captain MacDonnell's ancestry his coloring was almost as dark as Olive's. Then Frieda turned her blue eyes on her sister. "Captain MacDonnell and Olive look too much alike," she argued. "I prefer marriages where the man and woman are contrasts." Then, although Lady Kent made no answer, she smiled to herself. If Frieda believed in contrasts in marriage, surely she did not mean merely in complexion and general appearance. Important contrasts in human beings went much deeper than appearances. Surely Frieda's own marriage had offered a sufficient contrast in years, taste, disposition and a dozen other things. However, instead of securing happiness, it seemed to have had the opposite result. During the remainder of the afternoon Jack thought nothing more about their early conversation, as she devoted herself entirely to Captain MacDonnell's other guests. It was just a little after six o'clock, when they were beginning to think of returning home, that Lady Kent observed one of her servants coming toward her across the lawn carrying a telegram. Never so long as she lived was Jack ever to forget that moment and the scene about her. There were about a dozen, beautifully costumed persons present--the women in silks and muslins, and the men in tennis flannels and other sport costumes. They were all talking in a light hearted fashion about small matters. Without any thought that it might be of particular importance Jack opened her telegram and before reading it apologized to the persons nearest her. It happened that Captain MacDonnell was not far away. Yet she read her telegram--not once, but several times--before it dawned upon her what her husband's words meant. Even then she did not really understand any more than the millions of other women in the world, who heard the same news and more within the next few days. The sky overhead was still blue; the earth was green and peaceful, and her companions were unconscious of tragedy. Nevertheless Frank's telegram had stated that the beginning of the war cloud had appeared over Europe--the cloud which was later to spread over so large a part of the world. CHAPTER VII SO AS BY FIRE "BUT Henry cannot go; it is absurd! He never shot a gun in his life and besides I--" Frieda hesitated; her face flushing; yet she was trying to speak calmly.