Of course, one either likes Angela Thirkell, or doesn't like Angela Thirkell. We happen to belong to the first group, and our name is legion. Here are more tempests in teapots, for neither wars nor politics change the pattern of Thirkell's charm. The Birketts marry off Rose, their problem daughter, only to find Geraldine takes up where Rose left off. The evacuee children in the village provide backgrounds for old friends. Mrs. Brandon, Mrs. Morland, Lydia, Noel; there are new characters as well. There are the usual clergy, schoolmasters, lady writers; there are typical conversations that are the quintessence of inconsequentiality; there are three romances; and there is the war, faintly, and not too grimly, flavoring the whole, with servant trouble and blackouts, with young men joining up, with petrol rationing, profiteers and an aura of uncertainty. But somehow it does not distract from the trivia of Barsetshire, though it tends to pitch her comedy a bit too high.