ching eyes still upon her face.

"You will befriend my boy, after--after--"

"I will try my best, sir," said the girl, the colour deepening in her
cheeks the while. "Good night, sir," she said. "I shall be near at hand
if I am wanted."

"Barry," said his father, after the girl had gone, "that is a very
charming and a very superior young lady, one you will be glad to know."

"Yes, dad, I am sure she is," said Barry, and then he told his father of
the events of the previous night.

For some moments after he had finished his father lay with his eyes
shut, and quite still, and Barry, thinking he slept, sat watching, his
eyes intent upon the face he loved best in all the world.

But his father was not asleep.

"Yes, Barry," he said, "she is like your dear mother, and now," he added
hurriedly, "I hope you will not think I am taking a liberty--"

"Oh, dad, I implore you!" said Barry.

"Barry, I would like to speak to you about your work."

Barry shook his head sadly.

"I'm not much good, dad," he said, "but I'm not going to quit," he added
quickly, noting a shadow on his father's face.

"Barry, I'm going to say something to you which I do hope will not hurt
you. I know the common soldier better than you do, boy. Our Canadian
soldiers do not like to be rebuked, criticised or even watched too
closely. Forgive me this, my boy."

"Oh, dad, please tell me all that is in your heart!"

"Thank you, Barry. They don't like the chaplain to be a censor over
their words."

"I loathe it," said Barry passionately.

"Believe me, they are good chaps in their hearts. They swear and all
that, but that is merely a habit or a mere expression of high emotion.
You ought to hear them as they 'go over.' Barry, let all that pass and
remember that these boys are giving their lives--their lives, Barry, for
right, for conscience, and ultimately, though it may be unconsciously,
for God. Barry, a man that is giving his life for God may say what he
likes. Don't be too hard on them, but recall to mind, Barry, that when
they go up the line they feel terribly lonely and terribly afraid, and
that is a truly awful experience."

He paused a moment or two, and then lowered his voice and continued:
"Barry, you won't be ashamed of me. I was terribly afraid, myself."

Barry choked back a convulsive sob.

"You, dad, you!" He laughed scornfully.

"I didn't run, Barry, thank God! But the boys--my boys--they are only
lads, many of them--lonely and