d it on the terms the world would
set for them.

"The fact that men are going into this war in spite of their aversion
to killing shows the stuff of which they are made. It is like drowning
kittens," he smiled a little. "It has to be done or the world would be
overrun by cats."

Teddy, wide-eyed, was listening. "Do people drown kittens?" he asked.
"Oh, I didn't think they would." It was a sad commentary on the
conditions of war that he was more heavily oppressed by the thought of
drowned little cats than by the murder of men.

"My dear fellow," Derry said, "we won't talk about such things. I must
beg your pardon for mentioning it."

The talk flowed on then in lighter vein. "Ralph Witherspoon is in
town," Jean vouchsafed. "He had a bad fall and was sent home to get
over it. Mrs. Witherspoon has asked me there to dine. I shall take
you with me."

"I didn't know that people were dining out in these times."

"Mrs. Witherspoon prides herself on her conservation menus. She says
that she serves war things, that she gives us nothing to eat that the
men need, and she likes her friends about her."

"We shall miss Drusilla," Derry said. "I've been worried about her
since the Huns recaptured those towns in France."

"Daddy wrote that she is not far from his hospital, doing splendid
work, and that the men adore her."

"They would," said Derry. "She is a great-hearted creature. I can
fancy her singing to them over there. You know what a wonder she was
at that sort of thing--"

After dinner the General was eager to have his son to himself. "The
women will excuse us while we smoke and talk."

Derry's eyes wandered to Jean. "All right," he said with an effort.

The General's heart tightened. His son was his son. The little girl
in silver and rose was in a sense an outsider. She had not known Derry
throughout the years, as his father had known him. How could she care
as much?

Yet she did care. He realized how Derry's coming had changed her. He
heard her laugh as she had not laughed in all the weeks of loneliness.
She came up and stood beside Derry, and linked her arm in his and
looked up at him with shining eyes.

"Isn't he--wonderful?" she asked, with a catch of her breath.

"Oh, take her away," the old gentleman said. "Go and talk to her
somewhere."

Derry's face brightened. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not," stoutly. "Bronson says that the rain has stopped.
There's probably a moon some