They have been extremely merry, and never were four hard-worked old
ladies who deserved it better. All a woman can do in war-time they do
daily and cheerfully. Just as their men-folk are doing it at the Front;
and now, with the mops and pails laid aside, they sprawl gracefully at
ease. There is no intention on their part to consider peace terms until
a decisive victory has been gained in the field (Sarah Ann Dowey), until
the Kaiser is put to the right-about (Emma Mickleham), and singing very
small (Amelia Twymley).

At this tea-party the lady who is to play the part of Mrs. Dowey is sure
to want to suggest that our heroine has a secret sorrow, namely, the
crime; but you should see us knocking that idea out of her head! Mrs.
Dowey knows she is a criminal, but, unlike the actress, she does not
know that she is about to be found out; and she is, to put it bluntly in
her own Scotch way, the merriest of the whole clanjamfry. She presses
more tea on her guests, but they wave her away from them in the pretty
manner of ladies who know that they have already had more than enough.

MRS. DOWEY. 'Just one more winkle, Mrs. Mickleham?' Indeed there is only
one more.

But Mrs. Mickleham indicates politely that if she took this one it would
have to swim for it. (The Haggerty Woman takes it long afterwards when
she thinks, erroneously, that no one is looking.)

Mrs. Twymley is sulking. Evidently some one has contradicted her.
Probably the Haggerty Woman.

MRS. TWYMLEY. 'I say it is so.'