ome
breakfast shortly, and there is no need of your getting up for hours."

He bent down to kiss me good-by. There was a restraint in both
his voice and his caress that told me he was still thinking of the
conversation of the night before. I put my arms about his neck and
drew his face down to mine.

"Sweetheart," I whispered, "I want to tell you what I've decided about
Jack's property."

"Not now," Dicky interrupted hurriedly.

"Yes, now," I returned decidedly. "I am going to accept it"--I gripped
his hands firmly as I felt them drawing away from mine, "but I am not
going to use any of it for myself. I will see that it all goes to the
orphaned kiddies of the soldiers with whom Jack fought."

Dicky started, looked at me a bit wildly, then stooped, and, gathering
me to him convulsively, pressed a long, tender kiss upon my lips.

"My own girl!" he murmured. "I shall not forget that you have done
this for me!"

XXXVI

"AND YET--"

"What's the big idea?"

Dicky looked up from the breakfast table with a mildly astonished air
as I came hurriedly into the room dressed for the street, wearing my
hat, and carrying my coat over my arm.

"I'm going into town with you," I returned quietly.

"Shopping, I suppose." The words sounded idle enough, but I, who knew
Dicky so well, recognized the note of watchfulness in the query.

"I shall probably go into some of the shops before I return," I said
carelessly, "but the real reason of my going into the city is Mrs.
Stewart. I should have gone to see her yesterday."

Dicky frowned involuntarily, but his face cleared again in an instant.
It was the second day after he had brought me the terrible news that
Jack Bickett, my brother-cousin, was reported killed "somewhere in
France." I knew that Dicky, in his heart, did not wish me to go to see
Mrs. Stewart, but I also knew that he was ashamed to give voice to his
reluctance.

When Dicky spoke at last, it was with just the right shade of cordial
acquiescence in his voice.

"Of course you must go to see her," he said, "but are you sure you're
feeling fit enough? It will try your nerves, I imagine."

Far better than Dicky could guess I knew what the day's ordeal would
be. Mrs. Stewart had been very fond of my brother-cousin. With my
mother, she had hoped that he and I would some day care for each
other. With her queer partisan ideas of loyalty, when Dicky had been
so cruelly unjust to me about Jack, she had wished me