ng. He's taken on this big job, this man's job, and he says
to you: 'Here I am. You know me now. Do you care for me still?
If you do will you wait till I come back?' And to your dad, to
Sam, he says: 'I ain't workin' for you now. I ain't on your
payroll and so I can speak out free and independent. If your
daughter'll have me I mean to marry her some day.' Ain't that the
better way, Maud? Ain't that how you'd rather have him feel--and
do?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I--I suppose so," she admitted.
"Oh, I suppose that you and he are right. In his letter he says
just that. Would you like to see it; that part of it, I mean?"

Jed took the crumpled and tear-stained letter from her hand.

"I think I ought to tell you, Maud," he said, "that writin' this
was his own idea. It was me that suggested his enlistin', although
I found he'd been thinkin' of it all along, but I was for havin'
him go and enlist and then come back and tell you and Sam. But he
says, 'No. I'll tell her in a letter and then when I come back
she'll have had time to think it over. She won't say 'yes' then
simply because she pities me or because she doesn't realize what it
means. No, I'll write her and then when I come back after enlistin'
and go to her for my answer, I'll know it's given deliberate.'"

She nodded. "He says that there," she said chokingly. "But he--he
must have known. Oh, Jed, how CAN I let him go--to war?"

That portion of the letter which Jed was permitted to read was
straightforward and honest and manly. There were no appeals for
pity or sympathy. The writer stated his case and left the rest to
her, that was all. And Jed, reading between the lines, respected
Charles Phillips more than ever.

He and Maud talked for a long time after that. And, at last, they
reached a point which Jed had tried his best to avoid. Maud
mentioned it first. She had been speaking of his friendship for
her lover and for herself.

"I don't see what we should have done without your help, Jed," she
said. "And when I think what you have done for Charlie! Why, yes--
and now I know why you pretended to have found the four hundred
dollars Father thought he had lost. Pa left it at Wapatomac, after
all; you knew that?"

Jed stirred uneasily. He was standing by the window, looking out
into the yard.

"Yes, yes," he said hastily, "I know. Don't talk about it, Maud.
It makes me feel more like a fool than usual and . . . er . . .