r words.

"I told Kurt I'd marry him the very day he could sit up," continued
Lenore.

"By George! that accounts," exclaimed her father. "He's been tryin' to
sit up, an' we've had hell with him."

"Dad, he will get well. And all the sooner if I can be with him more. He
loves me. I feel I'm the only thing that counteracts--the--the madness
in his mind--the death in his soul."

Anderson made one of his violent gestures. "I believe you. That hits me
with a bang. It takes a woman!... Lenore, what's your idea?"

"I want to--to marry him," murmured Lenore. "To nurse him--to take him
home to his wheat-fields."

"You shall have your way," replied Anderson, beginning to pace the
floor. "It can't do any harm. It might save him. An' anyway, you'll be
his wife--if only for ... By George! we'll do it. You never gave me a
wrong hunch in your life ... but, girl, it'll be hard for you to see him
when--when he has the spells."

"Spells!" echoed Lenore.

"Yes. You've been told that he raves. But you didn't know how. Why, it
gets even my nerve! It fascinated me, but once was enough. I couldn't
stand to see his face when his Huns come back to him."

"His Huns!" ejaculated Lenore, shuddering. "What do you mean?"

"Those Huns he killed come back to him. He fights them. You see him go
through strange motions, an' it's as if his left arm wasn't gone. He
used his right arm--an' the motions he makes are the ones he made when
he killed the Huns with his bayonet. It's terrible to watch him--the
look on his face!.... I heard at the hospital in New York that in France
they photographed him when he had one of the spells.... I'd hate to have
you see him then. But maybe after Doctor Lowell explains it, you'll
understand."

"Poor boy! How terrible for him to live it all over! But when he gets
well--when he has his wheat-hills and me to fill his mind--those spells
will fade."

"Maybe--maybe. I hope so. Lord knows it's all beyond me. But you're
goin' to have your way."

Doctor Lowell explained to Lenore that Dorn, like all mentally deranged
soldiers, dreamed when he was asleep, and raved when he was out of his
mind, of only one thing--the foe. In his nightmares Dorn had to be held
forcibly. The doctor said that the remarkable and hopeful indication
about Dorn's condition was a gradual daily gain in strength and a
decline in the duration and violence of his bad spells.

This assurance made Lenore happy. She began to relieve the worn-out