“Lord Roberts!” began the lady scornfully. Then she sipped her tea, and the pause gave time to collect her wits. “You must remember that he is a professional soldier, and his views are tainted by militarism.”
“Isn’t that the trouble i’ Jarmany?”
Mrs. Saumarez drank more tea.
“Circumstances alter cases,” she said. “The broad fact remains that Germany harbors no evil designs against Great Britain. She believes the world holds plenty of room for both powers. And, when all is said and done, why should the two nations quarrel? They are kith and kin. They look at life from the same viewpoints. Even their languages are alike. Hardly a word in your quaint Yorkshire dialect puzzles me now, because I recognize its source in the older German and in the current speech of our Baltic provinces. Germany and England should be friends, not enemies. It will be a happy day for England when she ceases worrying about German measures of self-defense, but tries, rather, to imitate her wonderful achievements in every field of science. Any woman who uses fabrics need not be told how Germany has taught the whole world how to make aniline dyes, while her chemists are now modernizing the old-time theories of agriculture. You, Mr. Bolland, as a practical farmer, can surely bear out that contention?”
“Steady on, ma’am,” said Bolland, leaning forward, with hands on knees, and with eyes fixed on the speaker in an almost disconcerting intensity. “T’ Jarmans hev med all t’ wo’ld buy their dyes, but there hezn’t been much teachin’, as I’ve heerd tell of. As for farmin’, they coom here year after year an’ snap up our best stock i’ horses an’ cattle te improve their own breeds. I can’t grummel at that. They compete wi’ t’ Argentine an’ t’ United States, an’ up go my prices. Still, I do think our government is te blame for lettin’ our finest stallions an’ brood mares leave t’ country. They differ frae cattle. They’re bowt for use i’ t’ army, an’ we’re bein’ drained dhry. That’s bad for us. An’ why are they doin’ it?”
Mrs. Saumarez pushed away her cup and saucer. She laughed nervously, with the air of one who had gone a little further than was intended.
“There, there!” she cried pleasantly. “I am only trying to show you Germany’s open aims, but some Englishmen persist in attributing a hostile motive to her every act. You see, I know Germany, and few people here trouble either to learn the language or visit the country.”
“Likely not, ma’am,” was the ironical answer. “Mr. Pickerin’ went te some pleäce—Bremen, I think they call it—two year sen this July, te see a man who’d buy every Cleveland bay he could offer. George had just been med an officer i’ t’ Territorials—which meant a week’s swankin’ aboot i’ uniform at a camp, an’ givin’ his men free beer an’ pork pies te attend a few drills—an’ he was fule enough te carry a valise wi’ his rank an’ regiment painted on it. Why, they watched him like a cat watchin’ a mouse. He couldn’t eat a bite or tak a pint o’ their light beer that a ’tec wasn’t sittin’ at t’ next table. They fairly chased him away. Even his friend, the hoss-buyer, got skeered at last, an’ advised him te quit te avoid arrest.”
“That must have been a wholly exceptional case,” said Mrs. Saumarez, speaking in a tone of utter indifference. “Had I known him, for instance, and given him a letter of introduction, he would have been welcomed, not suspected. By the way, how is he? I hear——”
The conversation was steered into a safer channel. They were discussing the wounded man’s condition when Mrs. Saumarez’s car passed. The door stood open, so they all noted that the vehicle was white with dust, but the chauffeur was the sole occupant.