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Updated: June 12, 2025
The ladies of Witanbury were very much under the bondage of Miss Forsyth, and subject to her will; none more so than the good-tempered, yielding Mary Otway. Unluckily one of those absurd little difficulties which are always cropping up at committees was on the agenda for to-morrow afternoon, and Miss Forsyth was counting on her help to quell a certain troublesome person.
Then, again, it was just possible not likely, but possible that he might be able to get out of the ex-barber of the Witanbury garrison some interesting and just now valuable information. "What are you going to do now?" he asked. "Have you made any plans yet?" "We are thinking of going to London, and of making a fresh start there. We have friends in Red Lion Square."
Work did not make life sweet, or she, Mary Otway, would now be happier than ever, for she had never worked as hard as she was now working working to destroy thought working to dull the dreadful aching at her heart, throwing herself, with a feverish eagerness which surprised those about her, into the various war activities which were now, largely owing to the intelligence and thoroughness of Miss Forsyth, being organised in Witanbury.
But those two days, which will be always remembered by the people of the cathedral city as having witnessed the one War riot of Witanbury, were to have very different associations for Mrs. Otway and her daughter, Rose Blake.
It was a very interesting committee, more lively than usual. There seemed a notion among some of the people there that there will be war work of some kind for us to do. Lady Bethune thought so though I can't see how the war can affect any of us, here, in Witanbury. But just as we were breaking up, Lady Bethune told us some interesting things.
Haworth has already told you what it is we hope from you." "Yes, sir, I think I understand." "Are you an American?" asked the other abruptly. The Witanbury City Councillor looked slightly embarrassed. "No," he said at last. "But I was in the United States for some years." "You were never connected, I suppose, with the New York Police?" "Oh no, sir!"
Only just the telegram telling us that he has been severely wounded severely, you know, is much less serious than dangerously and that he was being sent to Sir Jacques Robey's hospital at Witanbury. It seems so strange that Jervis should be coming here so strange, but, my dear, so very happy too!
I believe it to be the fact that you hold the lease of the Trellis House in Witanbury Close?" She looked at him too much surprised and too much bewildered to speak. Then, "Bombs?" she echoed incredulously. "There must be some mistake! There has never been any gunpowder in my possession. I might almost go so far as to say that I have never seen a gun or a pistol at close quarters "
News in such a place as Witanbury spreads quickly, and though the number of invited guests had been very, very few, the number of uninvited sympathisers and interested spectators had been many. Suddenly Anna caught sight of her young lady and of Mr. Jervis Blake. As she did so the tears welled up into her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks.
They look just like our men in fact rather less soldierly than our men; the sort of chaps you might see walking along a street in Witanbury any day. One of them looked so rosy and sunburnt, so English, that we mentioned it to the interpreter. He translated it to the man, and I couldn't help being amused to see that he looked rather sick at being told he looked like an Englishman.
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