backward to be sure
she had missed nothing, she hurried up the bank and took her way down the
grassy path toward the pump, satisfied that Cameron had not yet left the
camp.

It was a lovely summer morning, and the quietness of the country struck
her as never before. The wild roses shimmered along the roadside in the
early sun, and bees and butterflies were busy about their own affairs. It
seemed such a lovely world if it only had not been for _war_. How could
God bear it! She lifted her eyes to the deep blue of the sky, where
little clouds floated lazily, like lovely aviators out for pleasure. Was
God up there? If she might only find Him. What did it all mean, anyway?
Did He really care for individuals?

It was all such a new experience, the village pump, and the few early
stragglers watching her curiously from the station platform. A couple of
grave soldiers hurried by, and the pang of what was to come shot through
her heart. The thought of the day was full of mingled joy and sorrow.

They ate a simple little breakfast, good coffee, toast and fried eggs.
Ruth wondered why it tasted so good amid such primitive surroundings; yet
everything was so clean and tidy, though coarse and plain. When they went
to pay their bill the proprietor said their beds would be only
twenty-five cents apiece because they had had no pillow. If they had had
a pillow he would have had to charge them fifty cents. The food was
fabulously cheap. They looked around and wondered how it could be done.
It was obvious that no tips would be received, and that money was no
consideration. In fact, the man told them his orders were merely to pay
expenses. He gave them a parting word of good cheer, and promised to try
and make them more comfortable if they wanted to return that night, and
so they started out for camp. Ruth was silent and thoughtful. She was
wishing she had had the boldness to ask this quaint Christian man some of
the questions that troubled her. He looked as if he knew God, and she
felt as if he might be able to make some things plain to her. But her
life had been so hedged about by conventionalities that it seemed an
impossible thing to her to open her lips on the subject to any living
being--unless it might be to John Cameron. It was queer how they two had
grown together in the last few months. Why could they not have known one
another before?

Then there came a vision of what her aunt might have thought, and
possible objections that