"Much too busy on her high official horse even to see me," cried Lesbia with a sort of jovial spite. "Now, Joanna, I insist upon your getting into an overall at once, and helping me. I'll commandeer one." Grace Jones went past them with her laden tray, and Mrs. Willoughby grasped her arm. "I want you to find me an overall for this lady before you stir another _step_," she shrieked emphatically. "Nonsense, Lesbia!" interposed Lady Vivian brusquely. "I don't suppose there is such a thing to spare, and, besides, I don't want one." She wore the plainest of dark coats and skirts and a soft silk shirt. Grace looked at her with composed admiration and a sense of gratitude. She did not wish to be further delayed with the heavy tray on her hands. "There's my dear Lance-Corporal!" exclaimed Lesbia, and hurled herself in the direction of a burly form which appeared strongly impelled to seek cover behind the piano as she advanced. Captain Trevellyan gently took the tray from Miss Jones. "Where shall I take it?" "Thank you very much," said Grace thankfully, dropping her aching arms. "That table over there, right at the end, if you will. It's very kind of you." She turned to Lady Vivian rather apologetically. "I'm afraid I ought not to have let him do that, but we're rather behindhand tonight. Are you come to help?" She supposed that this tall, curiously attractive new-comer was the wife of one of the officers from the camp. "Yes, if you'll tell me what to do." "If you'd carry trays? One of our workers is--is _impeded_ tonight," said Grace, conscientiously selecting a euphemism for the peculiar handicap under which Miss Marsh was labouring. For the next two hours Lady Vivian worked vigorously, in spite of a protest from John, who took the view of feminine weakness peculiar to unusually strong men. "These trays are too heavy for any woman to carry! It's monstrous! I shall tell Char so." "By all means tell her. I certainly think it's very bad for these girls, and at the end of a long day's work, too. But as for me, you know I'm as strong as a horse, Johnnie, and I enjoy the exercise. It warms me!" Her face was glowing and her step elastic. John realized, not for the first time, that Sir Piers's slow, rambling walks round the grounds and still slower evening games of billiards formed the major part of his Cousin Joanna's physical activities. He stood watching her thoughtfully. Char stopped in his immediate vicinity, and gave a couple of orders in her slow, despotic drawl. She rather wanted Johnnie to see how promptly and unquestioningly they were received. Johnnie, however, appeared to have his thoughts elsewhere, and Char rather vexedly followed his gaze. "How I wish my mother wouldn't do this sort of thing!" she said under her breath. "It's most tiring for her, and besides--" "Besides?" inquired Trevellyan, always courteous, but never of the quickest at catching an inflection.