He felt pretty sure that no vote of Dr. Prince's would ever be exercised in favour of Char's immediate return to the Midland Supply Depôt. "Dr. Prince is coming here tonight," said Lady Vivian. "He ought to be here any minute now, if it's after nine." "Ten past," said Miss Bruce, glancing at the clock. "Neither he nor any one else can convince me that I ought to remain in idleness when every worker in England is needed," said Char. "My dear Char, you can't run any risks with Sir Piers in his present condition," said John unexpectedly. "That's what we want Dr. Prince to tell us--whether there is any danger to him if you persist in going against his wishes." Something of condemnation, such as Char had never yet heard in her easy-going cousin's voice, silenced her. She felt bitterly that every one was against her, no one understood. Then Miss Bruce's hand came out timidly and patted her on the shoulder. Dear old Brucey! Char recognized her fidelity in a sudden spasm of most unwonted gratitude. Brucey at least knew that a real struggle was in progress between Char's sense of patriotism and the pain that it naturally gave her to resist the wishes of the parents whose point of view she could not share. For the first time since she was a child, Char felt moved to one of her rare demonstrations of affection towards the faithful Miss Bruce. She smiled at her, pain and gratitude mingling in her gaze, and let her hand lie for a moment on the little secretary's. Trevellyan leant against the chimney-piece, his hands in his pockets, and looked at Joanna with inarticulate, uncomprehending loyalty and admiration in his gaze. She was pacing up and down the long room with a sort of restrained impatience, the folds of her black dress sweeping round her tall figure as she moved. In the silence, broken only by the rustling of Joanna's gown, the approach of Dr. Prince's small, old-fashioned motor-car was plainly audible. Miss Bruce gave one timid look at Lady Vivian, then got up and went to the door. They heard her speak to the servant in the hall, and then she came back again and took up her place close to Char. "Did you ask him to come in here?" "Yes, Lady Vivian. At least, I told them to show him in here." Joanna resumed her restless pacing. Then the drawing-room door opened and closed again upon the doctor, entering with the stooping gait of a hard-worked, tired man at the end of the day. "Good-evening, Dr. Prince," said Joanna abruptly. "Will you give us the benefit of your advice?" "On whose account?" demanded the doctor, glancing sharply from one to another of the group. "It's just this," said Char's cool, incisive tones. "My mother wishes to persuade me that my father is not in a fit state for me to take up my work at Questerham again. That I ought to remain here, doing practically nothing, while there's work crying out to be done."