“No, she’s a brick, only she works too hard to suit me. Poor kid, she doesn’t get in from Washington until five; then if she has an engagement at night, she is all in the next day.” “The satisfaction of knowing she is doing her bit compensates for that.” “Yes, and now that the war is over, I’m hoping we’ll all be able to relax soon. I for one am sick of it all. The sight of a new man to train simply deadens me.” “Pshaw, Jack, what are you talking about? Aren’t you proud the Hopkins students made such a good showing for themselves?” “Yes, but I’m tired.” “How many of them got over anyway?” “About three hundred and eighty in France, and approximately two hundred in the camps ready for service.” “Good, they have shown what they are made of, haven’t they!” “Yes, because many of them are only children.” “I envy them!” reflectively added Walter. The two men parted. Jack was tall--at least six feet. He was slender and straight. He wore a Canadian uniform which showed off his figure to advantage. He also wore the D. S. C. ribbon, which was the envy of his men friends who had not seen service, and the glory and pride of all the girls upon whom he condescended to lavish attentions. He had been assigned to Baltimore a year before to train college students for service. He found our clubs open to him, as were also the homes of our socially prominent families, because he was descended from a fine old Canadian family whose unimpeachable manners and traditions marked them unmistakably as of good English stock. These traits were prominent in Jack, and revealed themselves in his accent and cultured intonations. Walter watched him out of sight, wondering why Jack had shown such a fondness for him, who was so entirely different. He compared Jack’s graceful figure with his own, which was handicapped by a droop in one shoulder, and a limp. Often had Walter thought of his imperfections and promised himself to make up in knowledge what he lacked in form. “Miss Franklin,” said he, when he returned from lunch, “a little golf and tennis for me in the afternoons, but no other holiday this summer. I want you to run off and get rested up, because there will be lots of work for all of us soon.” “But you have already worked so hard, Mr. Gary, you ought to take a rest too.” “All of my wants are satisfied with this deal going through. It will not be long now before Gary & Co. will mean more than just a name to Baltimore.” * * * * * These days Walter’s whistle sounded through the house like music to his mother’s ears. He worked late into the night, but when morning came he was punctual and smiling. “Love and business must be moving hand in hand with my boy,” remarked Mrs. Gary at breakfast one morning. “No, mother, I have seen very little of Betty in the last two months, but I have had a good many notes from her, and writing was something she never had time to do before--it indicates she’s thinking of me, anyway.”