Mrs. Willoughby opened her eyes to their widest extent, flung back her head, and exclaimed emphatically: "You will have no one in this world, Joanna, no one but yourself, to blame if the very worst happens. Mark my words, that uninteresting little creature, without a feature to bless herself with, is going to make poor guileless Johnnie ask her to marry him." Joanna had some opinion of Mrs. Willoughby's shrewdness, if none of her discretion, and this prognostication gave her a sense of comfort which she had had no slightest expectation of deriving from the visit of condolence. It even enabled her to thank Lesbia with sufficient cordiality for coming, as she at last escorted her into the hall. "When we shall meet again, dearest, I am utterly unable to declare," was a valediction which added considerably to her relief at parting. "My Lewis won't let me stay down here any longer, now that I'm fairly fit again. He's too sweet and self-sacrificing for words, poor lamb! 'Go back to London where there are a thousand jobs and undertakings _crying out for you_,' he says. I really can't bear to leave him, and the dear regiment, and my beloved Canteen, let alone you, whom I've always looked upon as the oldest, dearest of links with my girlhood. But, of course, my poor committees must be getting into the most ghastly muddles, and I know that all my officer protégés are in despair. They write me the most heartrending letters." Lesbia shrouded herself in sables, wound a motor-veil round and round her head, and cast a piercing glance round the hall. "What did I tell you, Joanna?" "You told me that John was here with Miss Jones, but I don't see either of them. Is he going to drive you back?" "So he pretended, my dear, but I can't answer for what she--" Trevellyan came into the hall and greeted Lady Vivian. "I've not kept you waiting, Mrs. Willoughby, I hope? I went to bring the car round." "Where is Grace?" asked Lady Vivian, not without malice. "Just come in and gone upstairs. We've been looking at your turnips," said John seriously. "A very fine crop, Cousin Joanna." "We shall all be _living_ on turnips quite soon," Lesbia declared with acerbity. "Good-bye, my poor dear Joanna, and do think over all I've been saying to you. Remember that a telegram would bring me at any hour, for as long as you please, and I'll take your girl off your hands whenever you like. I could make her _quite_ useful in some of my war-work." Joanna turned away from the door, thankful to reflect that neither her daughter nor Miss Bruce had been present to hear this monstrous assertion. As she crossed the hall, Grace came downstairs. Lady Vivian smiled at her. "You've a knack of appearing just when I want you. I've just seen Lesbia Willoughby off, since she mercifully refused to stay to tea. Has the second post come?" "Yes. I've got a letter that I rather wanted to talk to you about, from Miss Marsh at the Hostel."