ad it through once each year--and had braided down
her hair, which was as smooth and shining and lovely as Sara Lee herself,
and had raised her window for the night when Aunt Harriet came in. Sara
Lee did not know, at first, that she had a visitor. She stood looking
out toward the east, until Aunt Harriet touched her on the arm.

"What in the world!" said Aunt Harriet. "A body would suppose it was
August."

"I was just thinking," said Sara Lee.

"You'd better do your thinking in bed. Jump in and I'll put out your
light."

So Sara Lee got into her white bed with the dotted Swiss valance, and
drew the covers to her chin, and looked a scant sixteen. Aunt Harriet,
who was an unsentimental woman, childless and diffident, found her
suddenly very appealing there in her smooth bed, and did an unexpected
thing. She kissed her. Then feeling extremely uncomfortable she put
out the light and went to the door. There she paused.

"Thinking!" she said. "What about, Sara Lee?"

Perhaps it was because the light was out that Sara Lee became articulate.
Perhaps it was because things that had been forming in her young mind for
weeks had at last crystallized into words. Perhaps it was because of a
picture she had happened on that day, of a boy lying wounded somewhere
on a battlefield and calling "Mother!"

"About--over there," she said rather hesitatingly. "And about Anna."

"Over there?"

"The war," said Sara Lee. "I was just thinking about all those women
over there--like Anna, you know. They--they had babies, and got
everything ready for them. And then the babies grew up, and they're all
getting killed."

"It's horrible," said Aunt Harriet. "Do you want another blanket? It's
cold to-night."

Sara Lee did not wish another blanket.

"I'm a little worried about your Uncle James," said Aunt Harriet, at the
door. "He's got indigestion. I think I'll make him a mustard plaster."

She prepared to go out then, but Sara Lee spoke from her white bed.

"Aunt Harriet," she said, "I don't think I'll ever get married."

"I said that too, once," said Aunt Harriet complacently. "What's got
into your head now?"

"I don't know," Sara Lee replied vaguely. "I just--What's the use?"

Aunt Harriet was conscious of a hazy impression of indelicacy. Coming
from Sara Lee it was startling and revolutionary. In Aunt Harriet's
world young women did not question their duty, which was to marry,
preferably some one in the neighborhood, and bear chil