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Updated: May 25, 2025
You've seen those boys in hospital; I've seen 'em in the line and they've struck me, as they have you, as God's elect. . . . Then why, WHY, WHY, in the name of all that is marvellous, is this state of affairs existing over here? . . . . "I went to lunch with Sir James Devereux before I left Rumfold.
Not one of the dreary, routine-like places which have been in the past associated with convalescence, but a large country house, kindly placed at the disposal of the War Office by its owner. "Rumfold Hall for you, Vane," said the senior of the two doctors. "A charming house; Lady Patterdale a charming woman." "Rumfold Hall!" echoed Vane. "Good Heavens! I know it well.
He had no occasion to like Baxter from any point of view but apart altogether from Joan, he felt that if there was any justification in his late luncheon companion's views, men such as Baxter supplied it. With a movement almost of distaste he turned to Joan. "I was sorry that we didn't have another game before I left Rumfold," he said lightly.
A toi, mon cheri. PS. There's rather a dear man living fairly close to Rumfold, old Sir James Devereux. His house is Blandford a magnificent old place; almost if not quite as fine as Rumfold, and the grounds are bigger.
"'You might help the turnips you're so anxious about, says I, 'if they used you as manure." Old John, completely overcome by the remembrance of this shaft, laughed uproariously. "You should have seen his face, sir," he went on when he had partially recovered. "He got redder and redder, and then he suddenly says, 'e says, 'Weren't you the lodge keeper up at Rumfold Hall?
On that subject he considered himself an expert, and regularly twice a week he emptied the smoking-room at Rumfold by showing with the aid of small flags what he would have done had he been in charge of the battle of the Somme in 1916. He was only silenced once, and that was by a pessimistic and saturnine Sapper. "Extraordinary," he murmured. "I congratulate you, Sir John.
He was engaged thus when Joan Devereux found him one afternoon in his favourite haunt. She had stumbled on his hiding place by mistake, and her first instinct was to retire as quickly as she had come. Since their first meeting, their conversation, on the rare occasions they had met at Rumfold Hall, had been confined to the most commonplace remarks, and those always in the presence of someone else. Any possibility of a tête-
It's hopelessly unfashionable not to do war work of some sort, and this suits them down to the ground. . . . Why the Queen visited Rumfold the other day and congratulated Lady Patterdale on her magnificent arrangements." There was a mocking glint in her eyes, otherwise her face was perfectly serious. "You don't say so." Vane gazed at her in amazement.
The war seemed very far away from Rumfold; though occasionally a newcomer brought some bit of intimate gossip about Crucifix Alley or Hell Fire Corner, or one of the little places not shown on any map, which mean so much more to the actual fighting man than all the big towns rolled together.
You see, I knew Rumfold pretty well in the old days. . . . Is that the reason of the frown?" "I wasn't particularly anxious to see you or anybody," she remarked uncompromisingly. "I wanted to try to think something out. . . ." "Then we are a well met pair," laughed Vane. "I will walk a few paces behind you, and we will meditate." "Don't be a fool," said Joan still more uncompromisingly.
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