energy in him. He would re-build
the plant, on bigger lines than before, and when that was done, he would
build again. The best he could do was not enough.

He scarcely noticed Natalie's withdrawal from Graham and himself. When
she was around he was his old punctilious self, gravely kind, more than
ever considerate. Beside his failure to her, her own failure to him
faded into insignificance. She was as she was, and through no fault of
hers. But he was what he had made himself.

Once or twice he had felt an overwhelming remorse toward her, and on one
such occasion he had made a useless effort to break down the barrier of
her long silence.

"Don't go up-stairs, Natalie," he had begged. "I am not very amusing,
I know, but--I'll try my best. I'll promise not to touch on anything
disagreeable." He had been standing in the hail, looking up at her on
the stair-case, and he smiled. There was pleading behind the smile,
an inarticulate feeling that between them there might at least be
friendship.

"You are never disagreeable," she had said, looking down with hostile
eyes. "You are quite perfect."

"Then won't you wait?"

"Perfection bores me to tears," she said, and went on up the stairs.

On the morning of Graham's departure, however, he found her prepared to
go to the railway-station. She was red-eyed and pale, and he was very
sorry for her.

"Do you think it is wise?" he asked.

"I shall see him off, of course. I may never see him again."

And his own tautened nerves almost gave way.

"Don't say that!" he cried. "Don't even think that. And for God's sake,
Natalie, send him off with a smile. That's the least we can do."

"I can't take it as casually as you do."

He gave up then in despair. He saw that Graham watched her uneasily
during the early breakfast, and he surmised that the boy's own grip
on his self-control was weakened by the tears that dropped into her
coffee-cup. He reflected bitterly that all over the country strong
women, good women, were sending their boys away to war, giving them with
prayer and exaltation. What was wrong with Natalie? What was wrong with
his whole life?

When Graham was up-stairs, he turned to her.

"Why do you persist in going, Natalie?"

"I intend to go. That's enough."

"Don't you think you've made him unhappy enough?"

"He has made me unhappy enough."

"You. It is always yourself, Natalie. Why don't you ever think of him?"
He went to the door. "Countermand the order