The days that followed were very dreary ones. Little by little the resources gave out, and actual, positive hunger began to be felt on every side. “White Point” reflected the life of the county; and while much of the real condition of things was kept from Mrs. Tayloe, lest her sorrowing heart could not bear the strain upon it, yet even she knew how necessary it was to count every mouthful eaten. Anne and Dorothy kept up the spirits of the people until in August, when the terrible sorrow came, and Dorothy sat like one stunned and crushed by its force. They brought his body home; and not until she knelt over it and saw the almost rapturous smile upon his face did she realize that to grieve would be selfish indeed; that he was at last “at home”—at last “with her!” The shock of her father’s death for a while broke almost her brave spirit. It was a glorious death, Bobbie wrote her. It grieved him beyond words of telling that he could not be with her in her sorrow, but more than ever was he needed, and not for even one single day could he get leave. After they buried him, right next to her mother, the old routine of life became almost unendurable. She could not leave “White Point,” her duty kept her there, and yet how she longed for work—hard, continuous, ceaseless work—that she might not think. Anne’s cheerful, buoyant nature was a helpful tonic, and Dorothy struggled hard to be brave. Always Anne had something funny to tell of that “good-looking Lieutenant,” with whose movements, in some mysterious way, she seemed to keep well posted; and she made Dorothy take hold of life again, and in doing for others, her own pain became a little dulled. The weeks dragged into months, and still Bobbie had never gotten back. Way off in a distant part of the country he had been in active service, and his name had become a familiar one in the army, and they loved him there as they had loved him in his home as a boy, and over the camp-fires at night many a tale was told of his daring and skill as a soldier, and his gentle touch as a nurse when the day was done.