They chatted over their meal, which was served on their center table, on a white table cloth, with real silver and china which had been supplied by the owner of the house. It was really homelike, so different from what these two loyal girls had been accustomed to since they had been on the western war front, and they gave themselves up to the fullest possible enjoyment of the moment. “Have you heard from Tom recently?” asked Elfreda. “I had a letter from him two days ago. He tells me that he expects to be ordered away on some military mission soon. What it is or where, I do not know, but he says perhaps it may be possible for me to go with him provided it is not too confidential a mission,” she added in a lower tone. “You see officers’ wives are not supposed to be able to keep a secret.” “I know one who is,” declared Elfreda in a half whisper. “There are others who know it, too.” “Meaning?” inquired Grace. “Oh, most any old person,” returned Elfreda. “I had a letter from Anne this morning. She says she is just dying from loneliness, that she hasn’t seen her husband in ages, and that unless this war ends pretty soon she is either coming out to see us or desert. Jessica Brooks, she says, had a visit from Reddy when he last had shore leave. She wishes to know if any one has heard from Hippy, who she said, a flier told her, had had a bad fall.” “I don’t believe the report is correct,” declared Grace. “We would have heard of it through Nora, who isn’t very far from here. Does Anne say anything about the girls of the unit in Paris?” “She said she had heard from them through Arline Thayer, whose letter was mostly made up of remarks laudatory of _our_ daughter Yvonne. Grace Harlowe, I believe I am actually getting jealous of that child, and I don’t see how you can be so passive.” “I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, dear. I love that dear little golden-haired darling more than I ever loved anything in my life, outside of my dear mother and Tom, and I am looking forward with every fiber of my being to the day when we three shall be together in our beautiful Haven Home. I hope she will be happy there.” “She will be, Loyalheart. Don’t worry about that. I wonder if the doctor has come in?” she asked in a whisper. “He came in as we were sitting down to our mess.” “You must have ears in the back of your head. I never saw anything like you in all my experience.” Grace got up and stretched herself, placed a finger against her cheek and faced the end of the room. “Have you heard the rumor, Elfreda? It is said that the American artillery is trained on the Germans, and that some hot-headed officers are planning to shoot up our friends across the Rhine one of these nights.” “No? You don’t say!” cried Elfreda, speaking loudly enough to be heard in the next room. “I hope they will not do anything like that.” “So do I, but it appears to be a possibility.”