During tea the Major inquired about George’s individual circumstances, and George said that he was an architect.

“Student of bricks and mortar, eh?” said the Major benevolently.  “How long have you been in the Army?”

“Rather less than half a day, sir.”

The Major, raising his eyebrows, was very interested and kind.  Perceiving that he had virgin material under his hands, he began to shape the material, and talked much about the niceties of the etiquette of saluting.  George listened, yet at intervals his attention would wander, and he would be in Elm Park Road.  But the illusion of home was very faint.  His wife and family seemed to be slipping away from him.  “How is it,” he thought, “that I am not more upset about Lois than I am?” The various professional and family matters which in his haste he had left unsettled were diminishing hourly in their apparent importance.  He came back to the tea-house with a start, hearing the Major praise his business capacity as displayed during the afternoon.  The friendly aspect of the thin, pallid face inspired him with a sort of emotional audacity, and in ten words he suddenly informed the Major of his domestic situation.

“H’m!” said the Major.  “I’m a bachelor myself.”

There was a pause.

“I’ll give you a tip,” said the Major, resuming the interrupted topic.  “War is a business.  The more business capacity you have, the more likely you are to succeed.  I’m a business man myself.”

On leaving the tea-house they discovered the military vehicle surrounded by an enchanted multitude who were staring through its windows at the merchandise—­blankets, pans, kettles, saddles, ropes, parcels, stoves, baskets, and box of nibs—­within, while the policeman strove in vain to keep both the road and the pavement clear.  George preceded the Major, pushing aside with haughty military impatience the civilians so reluctant to move.  He felt as though he had been in the Army for years.  No longer did his uniform cause him the slightest self-consciousness.

At Wimbledon in the dusk the bus was met by several military wagons each from a different unit, and each anxious to obtain goods.  This piece of organization rather impressed George.

“Well, my boy,” said the Major, “you’d better go and report yourself.  You’ve been a great help to me.”

George saluted according to the Major’s own doctrine, and departed.  At Battery Headquarters he met Captain Resmith.

“How did you get on with Auntie?” asked Resmith in his loud, firm voice.

George winked.

Resmith gave a scarcely perceptible smile.

“Look here,” he said.  “I’m just going round the horse-lines.  If you’ll come with me I’ll show you a thing or two, and we can choose a mount for you.  Then after dinner if you like I’ll take you through the orders for to-morrow.  By the way, there’s a telegram for you.”

The telegram read: