Ramsey made bold to look at her out of the side of his eye, and as she was gazing tensely forward he continued his observation for some time. She was obviously controlling agitation, almost controlling tears, which seemed to threaten her very wide-open eyes; for those now fully grown and noticeable eyewinkers of hers were subject to fluctuations indicating such a threat. She looked “hurt,” and Ramsey was touched; there was something human about her, then, after all. And if he had put his feeling into words at the moment, he would have said that he guessed maybe he could stand this ole girl, for a few minutes sometimes, better than he'd always thought he could. “Well,” he said, “Colburn prob'ly wouldn't want to hurt your feelings or anything. Colburn--” “He? He didn't! I haven't the faintest personal interest in what he did.” “Oh!” said Ramsey. “Well, excuse me; I thought prob'ly you were sore because he'd jollied you about this pacifist stuff, and then--” “No!” she said, sharply. “I'm not thinking of his having agreed with _me_ and fooling _me_ about it. He just wanted to make a pleasant impression on a girl, and said anything he thought would please her. I don't care whether he does things like that or not. What I care about is that the _principle_ didn't reach him and that he mocked it! I don't care about a petty treachery to me, personally, but I--” Fraternal loyalty could not quite brook this. “Brother Colburn is a perfectly honor'ble man,” said Ramsey, solemnly. “He is one of the most honor'ble men in this--” “Of course!” she cried. “Oh, can't I make you understand that I'm not condemning him for a little flattery to me? I don't care two straws for his showing that _I_ didn't influence him. He doesn't interest me, please understand.” Ramsey was altogether perplexed. “Well, I don't see what makes you go for him so hard, then.” “I don't.” “But you said he was treach--” “I don't _condemn_ him for it,” she insisted, despairingly. “Don't you see the difference? I'm not condemning anybody; I'm only lamenting. “What about? “About all of you that want _war_!” “My golly!” Ramsey exclaimed. “You don't think those Dutchmen were right to drown babies and--” “No! I think they were ghastly murderers! I think they were detestable and fiendish and monstrous and--” “Well, then, my goodness! What do you want?” “I don't want war!” “You don't?” “I want Christianity!” she cried. “I can't think of the Germans without hating them, and so to-day, when all the world is hating them, I keep myself from thinking of them as much as I can. Already half the world is full of war; you want to go to war to make things right, but it won't; it will only make more war!” “Well, I--” “Don't you see what you've done, you boys?” she said. “Don't you see what you've done with your absurd telegram? That started the rest; they thought they _all_ had to send telegrams like that.” “Well, the faculty--”