n of the earliest emotional
instincts. After all, Lizzie Tuoey and Mrs. Kraemer were far more alike
than any two such apparently dissimilar men.

At this point McGeorge was lost in the irrelevancy of Lizzie's mind. She
made a random statement about Mrs. Meeker's sister and a neighbor, and
returned to the uncertain quality of Jannie's temper and the limitations
of a medium. It seemed that Jannie was unable to direct successful
sittings without a day between for the recuperation of her power. It
used her up something fierce. Stepan as well, too often recalled from
the joys of the beyond, the cigars of the aroma of three for a quarter,
grew fretful; either he refused to answer or played tricks, such as an
unexpected sharp thrust in Albert's ribs, or a knocked message of
satirical import, "My! wouldn't you just like to know!"

McGeorge had given up the effort to direct the conversation; rather than
go away with virtually nothing gained, he decided to let the remarks
take what way they would. In this he was wise, for the girl's sense of
importance, her normal pressing necessity for speech, gradually
submerged her fearful determination to avoid any contact with an affair
so plainly smelling of brimstone. She returned to Miss Brasher, the
sister, and her neighbor.

The latter was Mrs. Doothnack, and, like Mrs. Kraemer, she had a son
fighting in the north of France. There, however, the obvious similitude
ended; Edwin Doothnack served a machine-gun of the American
Expeditionary Forces, while his mother was as poor and retiring as the
other woman was dogmatic and rich. Miss Brasher brought her early in the
evening to the Meekers, a little person with the blurred eyes of recent
heavy crying, excessively polite to Lizzie Tuoey. Naturally, this did
nothing to increase the servant's good opinion of her.

The sister soon explained the purpose of their visit: Edwin, whose
regiment had occupied a sacrifice position, was missing. There his
mother timidly took up the recital. The Meekers were at supper, and
Lizzie, in and out of the kitchen, heard most of the developments. When
the report about Edwin had arrived, Mrs. Doothnack's friends were
reassuring; he would turn up again at his regiment, or else he had been
taken prisoner; in which case German camps, although admittedly bad,
were as safe as the trenches. She had been intensely grateful for their
good will, and obediently set herself to the acceptance of their
optimism, when--it