There are incidents in life which leave lasting impressions, and one of a large dinner at Lord French's about the same time, at which Lord K., Lord Haldane, and others were present, comes to my mind; probably no one there but those three men had an idea of the threatening cloud which broke in so short a time over England, and the important part two of them would take in it. Lord K., as the world knows, was on the point of returning to Egypt; in fact, he had started when he was recalled, almost on board the steamer at Dover.
[Sidenote: The country expects Lord Kitchener to head the War Office.]
The two questions which moved the soul of the English people to its deepest depth were, undoubtedly, what part the country was going to take when it was realized that war was inevitable, and, after that, who was to preside at the War Office. There might have been hesitation on the one point; on the other there was none, and the silent, deep determination with which the people waited to be told that Lord Kitchener was to be Secretary of State for War can only be realized by those who went through those anxious days. There was never a doubt or hesitation in the mind of the country that Lord K. was the only person who could satisfy its requirements, and the acclamation with which the news flashed through the country when he was appointed Secretary of State for War was overwhelming, while those who were thrown into contact with him give a marvelous account of the cool, rapid, and soldier-like way in which he accepted the great position. He quickly installed himself at the War Office, even to sleeping there, so that he was ever at the call of his office, and lived there till Lady Wantage placed her house in Carlton Gardens, close by, at his disposal. Later on the King offered him St. James's Palace, and those neighbors who rose early enough saw him daily start off on his morning walk to his office, where he remained all day.
[Sidenote: Lord Kitchener's arduous two years.]
The last two crowded years of Lord Kitchener's life, full of their anxieties and responsibilities, had not changed him; but though he had aged, and the constant strain had told on him, he had altered outwardly but little. The office life was irksome, and the want of exercise to a man of his active habits very trying, for he hardly ever left London except for an occasional week-end at Broome. His intended visit to Russia was not known, and, like so many of his visits to France and the army at the front, were only made public after his return. Those who saw him that last week and knew of his going, tell how he longed for the change and how eagerly he looked forward to his holiday.