nt? Perhaps we can get leave for him
to come home and marry Hilda at once."

Mrs. Mitchett sniffed. "She won't give it, sir. Now, 'Ilda, give it to
Mr. Pierson." And her voice had a real note of entreaty. The girl shook
her head. Mrs. Mitchett murmured dolefully: "That's 'ow she is, sir;
not a word will she say. And as I tell her, we can only think there must
'ave been more than one. And that does put us to shame so!"

But still the girl made no sign.

"You speak to her, sir; I'm really at my wit's end."

"Why won't you tell us?" said Pierson. "The man will want to do the
right thing, 'I'm sure."

The girl shook her head, and spoke for the first time.

"I don't know his name."

Mrs. Mitchett's face twitched.

"Oh, dear!" she said: "Think of that! She's never said as much to us."

"Not know his name?" Pierson murmured. "But how--how could you--" he
stopped, but his face had darkened. "Surely you would never have done
such a thing without affection? Come, tell me!"

"I don't know it," the girl repeated.

"It's these Parks," said Mrs. Mitchett, from behind her handkerchief.
"And to think that this'll be our first grandchild and all! 'Ilda is
difficult; as quiet, as quiet; but that stubborn--"

Pierson looked at the girl, who seemed, if anything, less interested
than ever. This impenetrability and something mulish in her attitude
annoyed him. "I can't think," he said, "how you could so have forgotten
yourself. It's truly grievous."

Mrs. Mitchett murmured: "Yes, sir; the girls gets it into their heads
that there's going to be no young men for them."

"That's right," said the girl sullenly.

Pierson's lips grew tighter. "Well, what can I do for you, Mrs.
Mitchett?" he said. "Does your daughter come to church?"

Mrs. Mitchett shook her head mournfully. "Never since she had her byke."

Pierson rose from his chair. The old story! Control and discipline
undermined, and these bitter apples the result!

"Well," he said, "if you need our creche, you have only to come to
me," and he turned to the girl. "And you--won't you let this dreadful
experience move your heart? My dear girl, we must all master ourselves,
our passions, and our foolish wilfulness, especially in these times
when our country needs us strong, and self-disciplined, not thinking of
ourselves. I'm sure you're a good girl at heart."

The girl's dark eyes, unmoved from his face, roused in him a spasm
of nervous irritation. "Your soul is in great d