She had no sympathy with 'that sort of people.' Her real opinion about the war was that no cause could be worth such wretched inconvenience as the war caused to everyone.

She hated to feel and know that probably the majority of decent people would say, if asked,--as Captain Marsworth had practically said--that she, Bridget Cookson, ought to be doing V.A.D.work, or relieving munition-workers at week-ends, instead of fiddling with an index to a text-book on 'The New Psychology.' The mere consciousness of that was already an attack on her personal freedom to do what she liked, which she hotly resented.

And as to that conscription of women for war-work which was vaguely talked of, Bridget passionately felt that she would go to prison rather than submit to such a thing.

For the war said nothing whatever to her heart or conscience.

All the great tragic side of it--the side of death and wounds and tears--of high justice and ideal aims--she put away from her, as she always had put away such things, in peace.