She did not err. Mrs. Chater came to her, dyspeptic-flushed, sternly
browed.

"Miss Humfray, I have one thing to say to you, no more. No
explanations, no excuses, please. I hear you have been trying to
entertain my son in the nursery this evening. If that, or anything
like it, occurs again--You understand?"

"Mrs. Chater--"

A massive hand signalled Stop. "I said 'not a word.' That is all. Good
night."

And Mary, crimson, to her room.




BOOK III.

Of Glimpses at a Period of this History: of Love and of War.




CHAPTER I.

Notes On The Building Of Bridges.