Some of Helena's friends during the latter week-ends of May had carried things to extremes.
Meanwhile the social and political sky was darkening in the June England.
Peace was on the point of being signed in Paris; but the industrial war at home weighed on every thinking mind.

London was dancing night after night; money was being spent like water; and yet every man and woman of sense knew that the only hope for Britain lay in work and saving.
Buntingford's habitual frown--the frown not of temper but of oppression--had grown deeper; and on their long rides together he had shown a great deal of his mind to Helena--the mind of a patriot full of fear for his country.
A man came across the lawn.

Lucy Friend was glad to recognize Geoffrey French, who was a great favourite with her.
"You are early!" she said, as they greeted.
"I came down by motor-bike.

London is hateful, and I was in a hurry to get out of it.

Where is Helena ?" "Gone to change her dress.