er afield and equipped for more thorough
research than any yet sent out. He himself had urged the need of such an
expedition many times, but when the war came all such ideas were given
up. The giving up had been, on his part, although he realized the
necessity which prompted it and even urged the yielding to that
necessity, a bitter disappointment.

And now--well, now he could not seem to arouse an atom of real
enthusiasm. He should be too excited to sleep, but he did sleep well.
When he dreamed of Egypt and the tombs of the Ptolemies, there was
always a Cape Cod cottage in the foreground. And the cottage never
varied in design; it was always the "Phipps' place," and its mistress
was always standing in the doorway. That was the great trouble, he knew
it. He was going to be homesick for that cottage and its contents. If
they might only be transferred with him to Egypt, then the land of the
Pharaohs would be even more paradisical than he used to think it.

He told Martha of the promised plan and its call to duty. Oddly enough,
thereafter they discussed it but little. Other subjects, although
mere commonplaces, they seemed to find more interesting. One evening,
however, they were together in the sitting room and Martha said:

"I noticed you got a letter from Washin'ton to-day, Mr. Bangs."

Galusha nodded. "Yes," he said. "It wasn't a letter exactly. Merely
another of the regular reports, that is all."

"I see.... Well, I suppose you will be hearin' from them pretty soon
about--about that other matter. The plan they told you they had for
you."

He nodded again. "Dear me, yes," he agreed. "I suppose I shall."

"Why do you say 'Dear me'? You want to hear, don't you? It will be a
wonderful thing for you, I should think. It is sure to be somethin' you
will like, because they said so in their letter."

"Yes--ah--yes."

Both were silent for a brief interval, then Martha said:

"I presume likely I shall be sittin' here in this very room this winter,
doin' just the very same thing I'm doin' now, knittin' or sewin',
with everything just as it is, cat and plants and Primmie and all the
everyday things I've been amongst all my life. And you'll be away off,
goodness knows where, among goodness knows what sorts of queer people
and queer places.... Well," she added, with a smile, "you won't have any
one to fret you about whether you put on rubbers or not. That'll be a
comfort for you, at any rate."

He did not seem to find g