wife, she got the first
shock of her life. It was right, of course, it must be right, but he
should have told her, and she remonstrated with him for the first time
in her life. Why had he not consulted her, she asked, before taking
such a vital step? Then Dr. Winters expressed in words one of the
underlying principles of his life. "A man's first duty is to his
country and his God," he said, "and even if you had objected, it would
not have changed my decision."

Mrs. Winters looked at him in surprise. "But, Frederick," she cried,
"I have never had any authority but you. I have broken promises when
you told me to, disappointed people, disappointed myself, but never
complained--thinking in a vague way that you would do the same for me
if I asked you to--your word was my law. What would you think if I
volunteered for a nurse without asking you--and then told you my
country's voice sounded clear and plain above all others?"

"It is altogether different," he said brusquely. "The country's
business concerns men, not women. Woman's place is to look after the
homes of the nation and rear children. Men are concerned with the big
things of life."

Mrs. Winters looked at him with a new expression on her face. "I have
fallen down, then," she said, "on one part of my job--I have brought
into the world and cared for no children. All my life--and I am now
forty years of age--has been given to making a home pleasant for one
man. I have been a housekeeper and companion for one person. It
doesn't look exactly like a grown woman's whole life-work, now, does
it?"

"Don't talk foolishly, Nettie," he said; "you suit me."

"That's it," she said quickly; "I suit you--but I do not suit the
church women, the Civic Club women, the Hospital Aid women, the
Children's Shelter women; they call me a slacker, and I am beginning
to think I am."

"I would like to know what they have to do with it?" he said hotly;
"you are my wife and I am the person concerned."

Without noticing what he said, she continued: "Once I wanted to adopt
a baby, you remember, when one of your patients died, and I would have
loved to do it; but you said you must not be disturbed at night and I
submitted. Still, if it had been our own, you would have had to be
disturbed and put up with it like other people, and so I let you rule
me. I have never had any opinion of my own."

"Nettie, you are excited," he said gently; "you are upset, poor girl,
about my going away--I don