as if she thought Royal should
enlist in some branch of government service at once.

I resented her words. "Do you want Royal to go to war and be killed?" I
asked her.

"My dear," she said solemnly, "have you ever heard that there is such a
thing as losing one's life by trying to save it?"

That startled me. I realized then that the war is going to be a very
serious matter, that there will be work for each one of us to do. But
Royal laughed and made me forget temporarily every solemn, sad thing. He
told Virginia that she was over-zealous, that she need not worry about
him. He'd be a true American and give his money to help protect the
flag. We began to play Bridge then and I thought no more about the war
for an hour or two.

_April 12._

I have learned to knit. Virginia has taught me and we are elbow-deep in
gray and khaki wool. I have wound it and purled it and worked on the
thing till I'm tasting fuzz. But I do want to do the little bit I can to
help my country. This war _is_ a serious matter. Already people are
talking about who is going to enlist--what if David would go! I hope he
won't--yet I don't want him to be a coward. Oh, it's all too confusing
and terrible to think long about. I try to forget it for a time by
remembering that Royal Lee cares for me. He has told me over and over
that he loves me. Love _must_ be blind, for he thinks I am beautiful and
perfect. I'm glad I look like that to him. We should be happy when we
are married, for we are so congenial, both loving music and things of
beauty. It's queer, though, I have thought of it several times--he has
never mentioned our marriage. I suppose he's too happy in the present to
make plans for the future. But I know he is a gentleman, therefore his
words of love are synonymous with an offer of marriage. All that will
come later. It's enough now just to know we care for each other.

CHAPTER XXV

DIARY--"THE LINK MUST BREAK AND THE LAMP MUST DIE"

_April 13._

I'M in sackcloth and ashes. My dream castles have tumbled down upon my
head and left me bruised and sorrowful. I'm awake at last! I'd like to
bury my face in my old red and green patchwork quilt and ask forgiveness
for being a fool. But I must compose myself and write this last chapter
of my romance.

Last night the "Singer with the Voice of Gold" gave a recital in the
A