t Randy and his
mother and Major Prime had come back with them for dinner, she had
planned to wear her old white, which had been washed and laid out on the
bed by Mandy. But the blue was more becoming, and the man with the
Apollo head had eyes to see.

She came into the Bird Room with a candle in her hand. There was a lamp
high up, but she could not reach it, so she always carried a candle. She
set it down on the case where the Bob-whites were cuddled in brown
groups. She whistled a note, and listened to catch the answer. It had
been a trick of hers as a child, and she had heard them whistle in
response. She had been so sure that she heard them--a far-off silvery
call----

Well, why not? Might not their little souls be fluttering close? "You
darlings," she said aloud.

Randy, arriving at that moment on the threshold, heard her. "You are
playing the old game," he said.

"Oh, yes," she caught her breath, "do you remember?"

He came into the room. "I remembered a thousand times when I was in
France. I thought of this room and of the Trumpeter Swan, and of how you
and I used to listen on still nights and think we heard him. There was
one night after an awful day--with a moon like this over the
battlefield, and across the moon came a black, thin streak--and a bugle
sounded--far away. I was half asleep, and I said, 'Becky, there's the
swan,' and the fellow next to me poked his elbow in my ribs, and said,
'You're dreaming.' But I wasn't--quite, for the thin black streak was a
Zeppelin----"

She came up close to him and laid her hand on his arm. He towered above
her. "Randy," she asked, "was the war very dreadful?"

"Yes," he said, "it was. More dreadful than you people at home can ever
grasp. But I want you to know this, Becky, that there isn't one of us
who wouldn't go through it again in the same cause."

There was no swagger in his statement, just simple earnestness. The room
was very still for a moment.

Then Becky said, "Well, it's awfully nice to have you home again," and
Randy, looking down at the little hand on his arm, had to hold on to
himself not to put his own over it.

But she was too dear and precious----! So he just said, gently, "And I'm
glad to be at home, my dear," and they walked to the window together,
and stood looking out at the moon. Behind them the old eagle watched
with outstretched wings, the great free bird which we stamp on American
silver, backed with "In God We Trust." It is not a bad