men of all arms, and the streets and roads swarm with men in
khaki, and troops are billeted in all the houses. The War has
changed many aspects, but not my old friendships. I had made a
home here during my soldiering days, long before the South African
War, my wife being a kinswoman of Sir Anthony, and so I have grown
into the intimacy of many folks around. And, as they have been
more than good to me, surely I must give them of my best in the
way of sympathy and counsel. So it is in no spirit of curiosity
that I have pried into my friends' affairs. They have become my
own, very vitally my own; and this book is a record of things as I
know them to have happened.

My name is Meredyth, with a "Y," as my poor mother used proudly to
say, though what advantage a "Y" has over an "I," save that of a
swaggering tail, I have always been at a loss to determine; Major
Duncan Meredyth, late R.F.A., aged forty-seven; and I live in a
comfortable little house at the extreme north end of the High
Street, standing some way back from the road; so that in fine
weather I can sit in my front garden and watch everybody going
into the town. And whenever any of my friends pass by, it is their
kindly habit to cast an eye towards my gate, and, if I am visible,
to pass the time of day with me for such time as they can spare.

Years ago, when first I realised what would be my fate for the
rest of my life, I nearly broke my heart. But afterwards, whether
owing to the power of human adaptability or to the theory of
compensation, I grew to disregard my infirmity. By building a
series of two or three rooms on to the ground floor of the house,
so that I could live in it without the need of being carried up
and down stairs, and by acquiring skill in the manipulation of my