Mrs. Lessing was just going into the dining-room, and Peter had no
need to reply. "Good-morning, Mr. Graham," she said, coming forward
graciously. "I wondered if Hilda would meet you: she wanted to post
a letter. Come in. You must be hungry after your walk."

A manservant held the door open, and they all went in. That magic sun
shone on the silver of the breakfast-table, and lit up the otherwise
heavy room. Mrs. Lessing swung the cover of a silver dish and the eggs
slipped in to boil. She touched a button on the table and sat down, just
as Mr. Lessing came rather ponderously forward with a folded newspaper in
his hand.

"Morning, Graham," he said. "Morning, Hilda. Been out, eh? Well, well,
lovely morning out; makes one feel ten years younger. But what do you
think of all this, Graham?" waving the paper as he spoke.

Peter just caught the portentous headline--

"GERMANY DECLARES WAR ON RUSSIA,"

as he pulled up to the table, but he did not need to see it. There was
really no news: only that. "It is certain, I think, sir," he said.

"Oh, certain, certain," said Lessing, seating himself. "The telegrams say
they are over the frontier of Luxembourg and massing against France. Grey
can't stop 'em now, but the world won't stand it--can't stand it. There
can't be a long war. Probably it's all a big bluff again; they know in
Berlin that business can't stand a war, or at any rate a long war. And we
needn't come in. In the City, yesterday, they said the Government could