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terruptedly over the rose-red mansion and the spreading park, the brown water and the waving woods--a kingdom of which we had been free since childhood. Never an aged tree blew down but we were told of it, and now--the greatest of them all was falling, the house of Bagot itself.
One of the old school, Sir Anthony had stood his ground up to the last. The War had cost him dear. His only son was killed in the first months. His only grandson fell in the battles of the Somme. His substance, never fat, had shrunk to a mere shadow of its former self. The stout old heart fought the unequal fight month after month. Stables were emptied, rooms were shut up, thing after thing was sold. It remained for a defaulting solicitor to administer the coup de grâce....
On the twelfth day of August, precisely at half-past two, Merry Down was to be sold by auction at The Fountain Inn, Brooch.
Berry's news took our breath away.
"D'you mean to say that this is what I fought for?" said I. "For this brute's peaceful possession of Merry Down?"
"Apparently," said my brother-in-law. "More. It's what Derry Bagot and his boy died for, if you happen to be looking at it that way."
"It'll break Sir Anthony's heart," said Daphne.
"But I don't understand," said Adèle. "How--why is it allowed?"
"I must have notice," said Berry, "of that question."
"Have you ever heard," said Jonah, "of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Alien Enemies?"
Adèle shook her head.
"I think you must have," said Jonah. "Some people call it the British Nation. It's been going for years."
"That's right," said I. "And its motto is 'Charity begins at Home.' There's really nothing more to be said."
"I could cry," announced Jill, in a voice that fully confirmed her statement. "It's just piteous. What would poor Derry say? Can't anything be done?"
Berry shrugged his shoulders.
"If half what I've heard is true, Merry Down is as good