There came a loud impatient knock at the door. She started guiltily.

"Open!" cried her husband imperiously. "Open, Polly, at once! I have already forbidden you to lock the door."

But she knew by the tone of his voice that he was no longer really angry with her. So, walking rather slowly, she went across and unlocked the door.

She stepped back quickly--the door opened, and a moment later she was in her husband's arms, and he was kissing her.

"Well, little one! You're good now, eh? Does my little sugar lamb want a treat?"

Polly knew that when he called her his little sugar lamb it meant that he was in high good-humour.

"It won't be much of a treat to stay at home and do the civil to that old Mrs. Bauer," she said, and looked up at him coquettishly.

There were good points about Manfred. When he was good-tempered, as he seemed to be just now, it generally meant that there would be a present for her coming along. And sure enough he pulled a little box out of one of his bulging pockets.

"Here's a present for my little lollipop," he said.

Eagerly she opened the box; but though she exclaimed "It's very pretty!"

she really felt a good deal disappointed. For it was only a queer, old-fashioned light gold locket. In tiny diamonds--they were real diamonds, but Polly did not know that--were set the words "_Rule Britannia_," and below the words was a funny little enamel picture of a sailing-ship. Not the sort of thing she would care to wear, excepting just to please Manfred.

"You can put that on the chain I gave you," he said. "It looks nice and patriotic. And about this evening--well, I've changed my mind. You need not stop in for Mrs. Bauer. Just say how-d'ye-do to her, and then go out--to the Deanery if you like. You see that I trust you, Polly;" his face stiffened, a frown came over it. "I have written a letter to the Dean for you to take; you may read it if you like."

She drew the bit of paper out of the envelope with a good deal of curiosity. Whatever could Manfred have to write to the Dean about? True, he was fond of writing letters, and he expressed himself far better than most Englishmen of his station. Polly had quite a nice packet of his love-letters, which, at the time she had received them, had delighted her by their flowery appropriateness of language, and quaint, out-of-the-way expressions.

"MOST REVEREND SIR"--so ran Manfred Hegner's letter to the Dean. "I wish to thank you for your kindness to me during the last few eventful days. I have endeavoured to deserve it in every way possible. I trust you will approve of a step I propose taking on Monday. That is, to change my name to Alfred Head. As you impressed upon me, Reverend Sir, in the interview you were good enough to grant me, I am now an Englishman, with all the duties as well as the privileges of this great nation. So it is best I have a British name. I am taking steps to have my new name painted up outside the Stores, and I am informing by circular all those whom it may concern. Your interest in me, Reverend Sir, has made me venture to tell you, before any one else, of the proposed alteration. I therefore sign myself, most Reverend Sir,

"Yours very faithfully,

"ALFRED HEAD."

"I think Head is a horrid name!" said his wife imprudently. "I don't think 'Polly Head' is half as nice as 'Polly Hegner.' Why, mother used to know a horrid old man called Head. He was a scavenger, and he only cleaned himself once a year--on Christmas Day!"

Then, as she saw the thunderclouds gathering, she exclaimed in a rather frightened tone, "But don't mind what _I_ say, Manfred. You know best. I daresay I'll get used to it soon!"

As they went downstairs Polly had been thinking.

"I fancy you've had this in your mind for some time."

"What makes you fancy that?" he asked.

"Because we've so near got to the end of our stock of cards and bill-heads," she said, "and you wouldn't let me order any more last week."

"You're a sharp girl"--he laughed. "Well, yes! I have been thinking of it some time. And what's happened now has just tipped the bucket--see?"

"Yes, I see that."

"I've already written out the order for new bill-heads and new cards!

and I've sent round the order about Monday," he went on. "But if this dratted Bank Holiday goes on, there won't be much work done in Witanbury on Monday! Hush! Here she comes."

There had come a ring at the back door. Polly went out, and a moment later brought back the old German woman.

Anna was surprised to find the husband and wife alone. She had thought that the Frohlings at least would be there.

"Well, Mrs. Bauer"--her host spoke in German--"a friend or two who were coming have failed, and you will have to put up with me, for my wife has to go up to the Deanery to see her sister. But you and I will have plenty to talk about at such a time as this. And I have got some papers from Berlin for you. I do not know how much longer they will be coming to England."

The old woman's face lighted up. Yes, it would be very nice to see one or two of the grand German picture papers which had been lately started in the Fatherland in imitation of those which were so popular in England.

"Do not trouble to look at them now," he added hastily. "You can take them home with you. Mrs. Otway, she is too broad-minded a lady to mind, is she not?"

"Ach! Yes indeed," said Anna. "Mrs. Otway, she loves the Fatherland.

This foolish trouble makes not the slightest difference to her."

Polly had been standing by rather impatiently. "Sometimes I'm quite sorry I haven't taken the trouble to learn German," she said.

Her husband chucked her under the chin. "How would Frau Bauer and I ever be able to talk our secrets together if you understood what we said, little woman?"

And Anna joined in the laugh with which this sally was greeted.

"So long!" said Polly brightly. "I expect I'll be back before you've gone, Mrs. Bauer."

CHAPTER XIII

"There is good news!" exclaimed Anna's host, as soon as the door was shut behind his wife. "The British have sunk one of our little steamers, but we have blown up one of theirs--a very big, important war-vessel, Frau Bauer!"

Good old Anna's face beamed. It was not that she disliked England--indeed, she was very fond of England. But she naturally felt that in this great game of war it was only right and fair that the Fatherland should win. It did not occur to her, and well he knew it would not occur to her, that the man who had just spoken was at any rate nominally an Englishman. She, quite as much as he did himself, regarded the naturalisation certificate as a mere matter of business. It had never made any difference to any of the Germans Anna had known in England--in fact the only German-Englishman she knew was old Frohling, who had never taken out his certificate at all. Frohling really did adore England, and this had sometimes made old Anna feel very impatient.

To Frohling everything English was perfect, and he had been quite pleased, instead of sorry, when his son had joined the British Army.

"So? That is good!" she exclaimed. "Very good! But we must not seem too pleased, must we, Herr Hegner?"

And he shook his head. "No, to be _too_ pleased would not be grateful,"

he said, "to good old England!" And he spoke with no sarcasm, he really meant what he said.

"It makes me sad to think of all the deaths, whether they are German or English," went on Anna sadly. "I do not feel the same about the Russians or the French naturally."

"Ach! How much I agree with you," he said feelingly. "The poor English!

Truly do I pity them. I am quite of your mind, Frau Bauer; though every Russian and most Frenchmen are a good riddance, I do not rejoice to think of any Englishman, however lazy, tiresome, and pigheaded, being killed."

They both ate steadily for a few minutes, then Manfred Hegner began again. "But very few Englishmen will be killed by our brave fellows. You will have to shed no tears for any one you know in Witanbury, Frau Bauer. The English are not a fighting people. Most of their sailors will be drowned, no doubt, but at that one must not after all repine."

"Yet the English are sending an army to Belgium," observed Anna, thoughtfully.

"What makes you think that?" He stopped in the work on which he was engaged, that of cutting a large sausage into slices. "Have you learnt it on good authority, Frau Bauer? Has this news been told you by the young gentleman official from London who is connected with the Government--I mean he who is courting your young lady?"