re. By that time, perhaps, there will
be something definite to tell." He hesitated a minute. "Laura is going
to feel pretty well cut up over this."
Elliott looked up quickly. "Especially cut up?"
"I think so. Oh, there wasn't anything definite between her and
Pete--nothing, at least, that they told the rest of us. But a fellow
who had eyes--" He left the sentence unfinished and walked over to
Elliott's chair. "You know, I told you," he said, "that I shouldn't go
into this war unless I was called. Of course I'm registered now, but
whether or not they call me--if Pete is out of it--and I can possibly
manage it, I'm going in."
A queer little pain contracted Elliott's heart. And then that odd
heart of hers began to swell and swell until she thought it would
burst. She looked at the boy, with proud eyes. It didn't occur to her
to wonder what she was proud of. Bruce Fearing was no kin of hers, you
know.
"I knew you would." Somehow it seemed to the girl that she could
always tell what Bruce Fearing was going to do, and that there was
nothing strange in such knowledge. How strong he was! how splendid and
understanding and fine! "Oh," she cried, "I wish, _how_ I wish I could
help you!"
"You do help me," he said.
"I?" Her eyes lifted in real surprise. "How can I?"
"By being you."
His hand had only to move an inch to touch hers, but it lay
motionless. His eyes, gray and steady and clear, held the girl's. She
gave him back look for look.
"I am glad," she said softly and her face was like a flower.
Bruce was out of the house before Elliott thought of the thing she
could do for him.
"Mercy me!" she cried. "You're the slowest person I've ever seen in my
life, Elliott Cameron!" She ran to the kitchen door, but the boy was
nowhere in sight. "He must be out at the barn," she said and took a
step in that direction, only to take it back. "No, I won't. I'll just
go by myself _and do it_."
Whatever it was, it put her in a great hurry. As fast as she had
dashed to the kitchen she now ran to the front hall, but the third
step of the stairs halted her.
"Elliott Cameron," she declared earnestly, "I do believe you have lost
your mind! Haven't you any sense _at all_? And you a responsible
housekeeper!"
Perhaps it wasn't the first time a whirlwind had ever struck the
Cameron farmhouse. Elliott hadn't a notion that she could work
so fast. Her feet fairly flew. Bed-covers whisked into place;
dusting-cloths raced ove
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