ighting for the liberties and rights of humanity.
But though these exceptions were a source of unspeakable comfort to him,
Larry carried day by day a growing sense of isolation and an increasing
burden of anxiety.

Then, too, there was the question of his duty. He had no clear
conviction as to what his duty was. With all his hatred and loathing of
war, he had come to the conviction that should he see it to be the
right thing for him, he would take his place in the fighting line. There
appeared, however, to be no great need for men in Canada just now.
In response to the call for twenty-five thousand men for the First
Expeditionary Force, nearly one hundred thousand had offered. And yet
his country was at war; his friends whether enlisted for the fighting
line or in the civilian ranks were under the burden. Should he not
return to Canada and find some way to help in the great cause? But
again, on the other hand, his work here was important, he had been
treated with great consideration and kindness, he had made a place for
himself where he seemed to be needed. The lack of clear vision of his
duty added greatly to his distress.

A wire had informed him in the first days of the war that his
brother-in-law had gone to rejoin his old regiment in the Coldstream
Guards. A letter from Nora did not help much. "Jack has gone," she
wrote. "We all felt he could do nothing else. Even poor, dear Mother
agreed that nothing else was possible. Kathleen amazes us all. The very
day after the awful news came, without a word from Jack, I found her
getting his things together. 'Are you going to let him go?' I asked
her, perfectly amazed at her coolness. 'Let me go?' said Jack, who was
muddling about her. 'Let me go? She would not let me stay. Would you,
Kathleen?' 'No,' she said, 'I do not think I would like you to stay,
Jack.' And this is our pacifist, Kathleen, mind you! How she came to see
through this thing so rapidly I don't know. But sooner than any of us
Kathleen saw what the war was about and that we must get in. She goes
about her work quietly, cheerfully. She has no illusions, and there is
no bravado. Oh, Larry dear, I do not believe I could do it. When she
smiles at the dear wee man in her arms I have to run away or I should
howl. I must tell you about Duckworth. You know what a dear he is. We
have seen a good deal of him this year. He has quite captivated Mother.
Well, he had a letter from his father saying, 'I am just about rejoi