A newsboy ran in front of them displaying a poster with the intelligence "Essex wickets fall rapidly"-- a semblance of county cricket still survived under the new order of things.

Near the saluting base some thirty or forty motorcars were drawn up in line, and Cicely and her companions exchanged greetings with many of the occupants.
"A lovely day for the review, isn't it ?" cried the Grafin von Tolb, breaking off her conversation with Herr Rebinok, the little Pomeranian banker, who was sitting by her side.

"Why haven't you brought young Mr.
Meadowfield?
Such a nice boy.

I wanted him to come and sit in my carriage and talk to me." "He doesn't talk you know," said Cicely; "he's only brilliant to look at." "Well, I could have looked at him," said the Grafin.
"There'll be thousands of other boys to look at presently," said Cicely, laughing at the old woman's frankness.
"Do you think there will be thousands ?" asked the Grafin, with an anxious lowering of the voice; "really, thousands?
Hundreds, perhaps; there is some uncertainty.

Every one is not sanguine." "Hundreds, anyway," said Cicely.
The Grafin turned to the little banker and spoke to him rapidly and earnestly in German.
"It is most important that we should consolidate our position in this country; we must coax the younger generation over by degrees, we must disarm their hostility.