rashing amid the conflagration of a continent. And she could not
now keep her mind on such wretched little personal matters while her
heart battered passionately at her breast, sounding the exciting
summons to active service.

To concentrate her thoughts on mortgages and deeds when she was
burning to be on her way to France--to confer power of attorney, audit
bills for taxes, for up-keep of line fences, when she was mad to go to
New York and find out how quickly she could be sent to France--such
things seemed more than a girl could endure.

In Shadow Hill there was scarcely anything to remind her that the fate
of the world was being settled for all time.

Only for red service flags here and there, here and there a burly
figure in olive-drab swaggering along Main Street, nothing except
war-bread, the shortage of coal and sugar, and outrageous prices
reminded her that the terrific drama was still being played beyond
the ocean to the diapason of an orchestra thundering from England to
Asia and from Africa to the Arctic.

But already the eternal signs were pointing to the end. She read the
_Republican_ in the morning, the _Star_ at night. Gradually it became
apparent to the girl that the great conflagration was slowly dying
down beyond the seas; that there was to be no chance of her returning;
that there was to be no need of her services even if she were already
equipped to render any, and now, certainly, no time for her to learn
anything which might once have admitted her to comradeship in the
gigantic conflict between man and Satan. She was too late. The world's
tragedy was almost over.

With the signing of the armistice, all dreams of service ended
definitely for her.

False news of the suspension of hostilities should have, in a measure,
prepared her. Yet, the ultimately truthful news that the war was over
made her almost physically ill. For the girl's ardent religious
fervour had consumed her emotional energy during the incessant
excitement of the past three years. But now, for this natural ardour,
there was no further employment. There was no outlet for mind or heart
so lately on fire with spiritual fervour. God was no more; her friend
was dead. And now the war had ended. And nobody in the world had any
need of her--any need of this woman who needed the world--and
love--spiritual perhaps, perhaps profane.

The false peace demonstration, which set the bells of Shadow Hill
clanging in the wintry air and the mil