TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston

brought any consolations for her, or for Dixon either.

Dixon had taken Gockbird to Downfield the
day after mobilization, and had returned home just
in time to interview some self-important persons
who were motoring about the country requisitioning
horses for the Army. Harkaway had been excused
on grounds of old age, but the other two had been
taken, at forty pounds apiece: the plump mowing-
machine pony was not yet needed for a European
war.

When we had finished making a fuss of Gockbird
I took Aunt Evelyn up to inspect our bivouac;
several of my companions were taking their Sabbath
ease in the shade of the rick-cloth; they scrambled
shyly to their feet and Aunt Evelyn was friendly and
gracious to them; but she was a visible reminder to
us of the homes we had left behind us.

As I lay awake after "lights-out", visual realiza-
tions came to me of the drawing-room at Butley, and
Miriam's successor bringing in the oil-lamp; I had
not liked it when I was seeing my aunt into the train
at Canterbury—the slow train which took her home
in the evening sunshine through that life-learned
landscape, which, we all felt, was now threatened by
barbaric invasion. I had never thought about her in
that way while I was enjoying myself up at Packle-
stone, and my sympathetic feeling for her now was,
perhaps, the beginning of my emancipation from the
egotism of youth. I wished I hadn't told her that "we
should probably be going out quite soon". She would
be lying awake and worrying about it now. The
ground was hard under my waterproof sheet, but I
was very soon asleep.

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