It was not long, however, before this little friendly interim was broken. The other two reappeared, and Aunt Sadie hurried them all off to the moving-picture theatre. There Elizabeth managed to secure the seat next to Brother Seabrook, a manœuvre which Aunt Sadie was not quick enough to frustrate. She would not, however, permit her guest of honor to be snatched completely from her, and so squeezed herself down firmly beside them, leaving Julie and Mr. Bixby to find seats together elsewhere. The entertainment was preceded by a patriotic rally on behalf of one of the Liberty Loans, and as Judge Dean--the main speaker of the evening, who had come from Red River to address the Hart’s Run people--was just beginning his speech, they hastily obliterated themselves in back seats. They listened dutifully through the speech, and to the subscribing for bonds which followed, although they took no part in it, as Julie had already bought two bonds, and Mr. Bixby whispered that he too was carrying about all he could manage. After the drive for the Loan was over, the lights were lowered, and the moving pictures began; and as always in those summer days of 1918, soldiers went marching by upon the screen. Soldiers drilling at Camp Lee; running up the flag--for a moment Old Glory waved and rippled in the wind before them, and the crowd went wild with applause; soldiers on a transport; American soldiers marching through Paris. At the sight of them and at the sound of the continuous applause, Julie felt the man beside her stiffen. “I’m liable to get my call any time now,” he whispered suddenly in the dimness. It was only what his wife had said at supper, but now it was different. Then it had been an almost impersonal statement. Now his low voice made it alive and real, an approaching event upon which a human being’s whole life was hung. “You heard ’em speak of it at table?” he questioned. “Yes,” she nodded faintly. The light from the screen glimmered upon his face, and he looked and looked at the men slipping by before him. Suddenly for Julie there seemed to be nothing in the house save those marching figures, and his white face watching them. She fixed her eyes upon them also and a twist of horror shot through her. “Look at those men,” she thought. “Look at all of them--those are all real men--they aren’t just pictures, they’re real. Every soldier there is--or was--a real person. Oh, my Lord!” she thought suddenly, “I wonder what they’re up against now.” At last the war pictures flashed out and a play began. Mr. Bixby drew a deep breath and Julie felt him relax. He turned to her. “I--I was mightily obliged to you,” he ventured, speaking softly. Julie knew what he meant, but she wondered if he was aware of what she had done. “What for?” she questioned.