First, a speech excellent in its kind, which paid tribute to the deeds of the sons and daughters of the Empire in all parts of the world; also it emphasized the sternness of the hour and the need for "keeping on, keeping on." Then, amid a flutter of excitement, came the presentation to Miss Munt. It was made by the Duke, a figure deservedly popular all over the district from which, to be sure, he derived immense revenues. A master of courtly phrase and well turned compliment, he gave the heroine of the occasion the full benefit of his powers. And when at last, in the purview of three thousand people, the dauntless Sally came forth to the table to receive the casket and scroll she was a sight to behold. Rather tall, very slender, brown of cheek and with the eye of a falcon, in her simple, faded, but much beribboned khaki she looked at that moment a child of the gods. At the sight of her a thrill ran through the hall. Cinema, newspaper, picture postcard had led that assembly to set its hopes high, but the reality, in its calm strength, with a faintly ironical smile fusing a noble fixity of purpose, more than fulfilled them. In the youngest daughter of the Mayor of the city was symbolized the glorious spirit of the youth of the Empire. A hush came over the great audience. The Duke opened the casket and took out the scroll. Everybody seemed fascinated by her, including the members of her own family in a group at the right-hand of the Chair. But there was just one person there who did not seem willing to submit without a struggle to her dynamic influence; and that person was her rather rueful, slightly scandalized male parent. Even now, in this, of all moments, his worship seemed to detect in that amazing personality the spirit of Damnable Independence. How many times in the past, in the stress of combat, when it had been his will against hers, had he seen that dogged, oh-go-to-the-devil look which would surely have driven him mad had not he been weak enough to admire it secretly. There was no getting topside of a look of that kind. As she stood in the presence of the ducal necktie, with a faint trace of humorous scorn at the corners of her lips, the outraged Chairman suddenly caught and fixed her eye. And as he did so his own eye, as of old, seemed to say to her, "One word from You, our Sally, and I'll give You such a Lammoxing!"