ew she had gained of herself was all she needed to understand
that one lack which no one could have made her see or comprehend.
Huntington felt the closer relationship between her and Merry, and he
believed the girl had found the answer to her question.

"We must forget our mistakes," he said, anxious to relieve Marian,
"except when remembering them will prevent a repetition. We all have
tried to do our full duty by this abnormal personality, and our
shortcomings should not cause us to question the sincerity of our acts."

"You are too generous," Mrs. Thatcher replied; "I shall never cease to
hold myself accountable, never!"

"Don't, Momsie!" Merry begged. "Perhaps even now we can suggest
something which will undo the harm."

"We must," Huntington said soberly. "Now, if I may finish out my visit
with you it will be a real relief after these depressing days, and we
will await the inspiration."

"We are counting on your doing so," Marian replied promptly. "It
comforts me to have you share this time with me. I can't tell Harry the
whole story yet. And Billy is waiting for you. He and Philip are crazed
by this talk of war, and are trying to find some way to get into it. Of
course it is ridiculous, but boys are irrepressible creatures. I don't
need to tell you that!"

"I'm not so sure that it is ridiculous," Huntington surprised them both
by saying. "I don't quite see where they could break into this war, but
as for Billy I believe a first-hand knowledge of these terrible
experiences would go far toward making a man of him."

"You surely wouldn't have them get into the fighting!" Mrs. Thatcher
exclaimed.

"No, not that; but there are other ways. I heard some talk of forming
ambulance squads to send to France. If they do that, I might urge
Billy's father to let him go."

"Still, there would be danger, wouldn't there?" Merry asked.

"Some, perhaps; but there is danger in the life which surrounds these
boys now. I am much concerned about Billy. Unless something happens to
shake him up he will never know what life really is. The nobility of
heroism, an every-day occurrence on the firing-line, is something which
could not fail to leave its impress on these youngsters. It is worth
thinking over."

"I couldn't let Philip go," Marian said with the old-time finality in
her voice.

"Perhaps not," Huntington replied with a significant look. "It may be
most unwise; but if Nature should seem to point strongly in that
dire