been seriously annoyed that his daughter should consider a marriage with
a curate whose gifts had not yet made him an income. But he recognised
that the young man might go far. "Young Graham?" he would say, "Yes, a
clever young fellow, with quite remarkable gifts, sir. Bishop thinks a
lot of him, I believe. Preaches extraordinarily well. The Rector said he
would ask him to St. John's one morning...."

Peter Graham's parish ran down to the river, and included slums in which
some of the ladies of St. John's (whose congregation had seen to it that
in their immediate neighbourhood there were no such things) were
interested. So the two had met. She had found him admirable and likeable;
he found her highly respectable and seemingly unapproachable. From which
cold elements much more may come than one might suppose.

At any rate, now, Mrs. Lessing said nothing when Hilda went to post a
letter in London on Sunday morning before breakfast. She would have
mildly remonstrated if the girl had gone to meet the young man. The which
was England once, and may, despite the Kaiser, be England yet once more.

"I was nearly going," she declared. "You're a bit late."

"I know," he replied; "I couldn't help it. The early service took longer
than usual. But I'm glad to see you before breakfast. Tell me, what does
your father think of it all?"

The girl gave a little shrug of the shoulders, "Oh, he says war is
impossible. The credit system makes it impossible. But if he really
thinks so, I don't see why he should say it so often and so violently.
Oh, Peter, what do you think?"