the situation between them, or
ignore it.

"Can I get anything for your head, my dear?"

"I haven't any headache."

"Then I think I'll go to bed. I didn't sleep much last night."

He was going out when she spoke again.

"I came up-stairs because I saw how things were going."

"Do you really want to go into that, to-night?"

"Why not to-night? We'll have to go into it soon enough."

Yet when she turned to him he saw the real distress in her face, and his
anger died.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Natalie. I honestly tried. But you know how
I feel about that girl."

"Even the servants know it. It is quite evident."

"We parted quite amiably."

"I dare say! You were relieved that she was going. If you would only be
ordinarily civil to her--oh, don't you see? She could keep Graham from
going into this idiotic war. You can't. I can't. I've tried everything I
know. And she knows she can. She's--hateful about it."

"And you would marry him to that sort of a girl?"

"I'd keep him from being blinded, or mutilated, or being killed."

"You can kill his soul."

"His soul!" She burst into hysterical laughter. "You to talk about
souls! That's--that's funny."

"Natalie, dear." He was very grave, very gentle. "Has it occurred to you
that we are hitting it off rather badly lately?"

She looked at him quickly.

"How? Because I don't think as you do? We got on well enough before this
war came along."

"Do you think it is only that?"

"If it's the house, just remember you gave me carte blanche there."

He made a little gesture of despair.

"I just thought perhaps you are not as happy as you might be."

"Happiness again! Did you come up-stairs to-night, with this thing
hanging over us, to talk about happiness? That's funny, too." But her
eyes were suddenly suspicious. There was something strange in his voice.

"Let's forget that for a moment. Graham will make his own decision. But,
before we leave that, let me tell you that I love him as much as you do.
His going means exactly as much. It's only--"

"Another point we differ on," she finished for him. "Go on. You are
suddenly concerned about my happiness. I'm touched, Clay. You have left
me all winter to go out alone, or with anybody who might be sorry enough
for me to pick me up, and now?" Suddenly her eyes sharpened, and she
drew her breath quickly. "You've seen that scandalous thing in the
paper!"

"It was sent to me."

"Who sent it?"

"A firm of priv