that
settled look of loneliness? I call it the 'institutional face,' and I
know it the minute I see it. Poor Bob Wilson--it will be sad news for
him--he was our plumber and gave up a good job to go. At the station
he kept saying to his wife to comfort her, for she was crying her
heart out, poor girl, 'Don't cry, Minnie dear, I'm leaving you in
good hands; they are not like strangers anymore, all these kind
ladies; they'll see you through. Don't you remember what the Doctor
said,'--that was your husband, Mrs. Winters,--'the women are the best
soldiers of all--so you'll bear up, Minnie.'

"Minnie was a good soldier right enough," said the president, "but I
wonder what Bob will think of the rest of us when he comes home--or
doesn't come home. We let his Minnie die, and sent his two babies to
the Children's Shelter. In this manner have we discharged our
duty--we've taken it easy so far."

Mrs. Winters sat open-eyed, and as soon as she could, left the room.
She went at once to the Shelter and asked to see the children.

Up the bare stairs, freshly scrubbed, she was taken, and into the
day-nursery where many children sat on the floor, some idly playing
with half-broken toys, one or two wailing softly, not as if they were
looking for immediate returns, but just as a small protest against
things in general. The little four-year-old girl, neatly dressed and
smiling, came at once when the matron called her, and quickly said,
"Will you take me to my mother? Am I going home now?"

"She asks every one that," the matron said aside.

"I have a little brother now," said the child proudly; "just down from
heaven--we knew he was coming."

In one of the white cribs the little brother lay, in an embroidered
quilt. The matron uncovered his face, and, opening one navy-blue eye,
he smiled.

"He's a bonnie boy," the matron said; "he has slept ever since he
came. But I cannot tell--somebody--I simply can't."

Mrs. Winters went home thinking so hard that she was afraid her
husband would see the thoughts shining out, tell-tale, in her face.

She told him where she had been and was just leading up to the appeal
which she had prepared, for the children, when a young man called to
see the Doctor.

The young fellow had called for advice: his wife would not give her
consent to his enlisting, and his heart was wrung with anxiety over
what he should do.

The Doctor did not hesitate a minute. "Go right on," he said; "this is
no time to le