And we shall take them--do you
think?"
"We must. The attacking columns will be of great strength, and the
attack will be preceded by a tremendous cannonade."
"So we may expect great news in the next few days?" said Mrs. Wilders,
eagerly.
"More bloodshed!" added Mrs. Jones, with a deep sigh. "This terrible
war!"
"You can't make omelettes without breaking eggs," said Mr. Hobson,
sententiously. "The more terrible a war is, the sooner it is ended."
"We are getting very ghastly in our talk," said Mrs. Wilders. "Suppose
we go into the drawing-room and have some tea."
As they passed out of the dining-room, Mr. Hobson managed to whisper a
few words.
"I have squeezed him dry: that was all I wanted to know. I need not
stay any longer, I think."
"Who knows? His special messenger may come down with the very latest.
If so, you ought to be able to extract that from him too."
Mrs. Wilders spoke these words carelessly; but, as often happens, they
correctly foretold what presently occurred.
When they were all seated cosily around the tea-table, Mrs. Wilders's
man brought in a great dispatch upon a salver.
"For Mr. Faulks," he said, and with an air of the greatest importance
the hard-worked, indispensable official tore open the cover.
It contained a few hurried lines from Sir Humphrey Fothergill to the
following effect:--
"A telegram has just been received from Lord Raglan.
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