and a multitude of officers and enlisted men seeking their
desks. She was here to join them, and she hoped that it would not be
too hard to find some job with a little thrill of service in it.

As she went through Georgetown now M Street was different--full of
marketers and of briskness. The old bridge was crowded. As her car
swooped up the hills and skirted the curves to Polly Widdicombe's she
began to be afraid again. But she was committed to the adventure and
she was eager for the worst of it. She found the house without trouble
and saw in the white grove of columns Polly herself, bidding good-by
to her husband, whose car was waiting at the foot of the steps.

Polly hailed Marie Louise with cries of such delight that before the
cab had made the circle and drawn up at the steps the hunted look was
gone and youth come back to Marie Louise's anxious smile. Polly kissed
her and presented her husband, pointing to the gold leaves on his
shoulders with militaristic pride.

Widdicombe blushed and said: "Fearless desk-fighter has to hurry off
to battle with ruthless stenographers. Such are the horrors of war!"

He insisted on paying Marie Louise's driver, though she said, "Women
will never be free so long as men insist on paying all their bills."

Polly said: "Hush, or the brute will set me free!"

He kissed Polly, waved to Marie Louise, stepped into his car, and shot
away.

Polly watched him with devout eyes and said:

"Poor boy! he's dying to get across into the trenches, but they won't
take him because he's a little near-sighted, thank God! And he works
like a dog, day and night." Then she returned to the rites of
hospitality. "Had your breakfast?"

"At the station." The truth for once coincided very pleasantly with
convenience.

"Then I know what you want," said Polly, "a bath and a nap. After that
all-night train-trip you ought to be a wreck."

"I am."

Polly led her to a welcoming room that would have been quite pretty
enough if it had had only a bed and a chair. Marie Louise felt as if
she had come out of the wilderness into a city of refuge. Polly had an
engagement, a committee meeting of women war-workers, and would not be
back until luncheon-time. Marie Louise steeped herself in a hot tub,
then in a long sweet sleep in a real bed. She was wakened by the
voices of children, and looked out from her window to see the
Widdicombe tots drilling in a company of three with a drum, a flag,
and a wooden gun. T