Wilfred stepped closer to the elder woman while Caroline slowly rose from her chair, her eyes fixed on Mrs. Varney. “What does he say, mother?” asked Wilfred. “He says——” answered his mother with measured quietness, and controlling herself with the greatest difficulty, “he tells me that—that you—are——” in spite of her tremendous effort, her voice failed her. “Read it yourself, my boy,” she whispered pitifully. The letter was evidently exceedingly brief. A moment put Wilfred in possession of its contents. His mother stood with head averted. Caroline stared with trembling lips, a pale face, and a heaving bosom. It was to the orderly that Wilfred addressed himself. “I am to go back with you?” “General’s orders, sir,” answered the soldier, saluting, “to enter the service. God knows we need everybody now.” “When do we start?” asked Wilfred eagerly, his face flushing as he realised that his fondest desire was now to be gratified. “As soon as you are ready, sir. I am waiting.” “I am ready now,” said Wilfred. He turned to his mother. “You won’t mind, mother,” he said, his own lips trembling a little for the first time at the sight of her grief. Mrs. Varney shook her head. She stepped nearer to him, smoothed the hair back from his forehead, and stretched out her arms to him as if she fain would embrace him, but she controlled herself and handed him the cap and belt. “Your brother,” she said slowly, “seems to be a little better. He wants you to take his cap and belt. I told him your father had sent for you, and I knew you would wish to go to the front at once.” Wilfred took the belt from her trembling hands, and buckled it about him. His mother handed him the cap. “Howard says he can get another belt when he wants it, and you are to have his blankets, too. I will go and get them.” She turned and left the room. She was nearly at the end of her resisting power, and but for the welcome diversion incident to her departure, she could not have controlled herself longer. The last one! One taken, one trembling, and now Wilfred! The boy entered into none of the emotions of his mother. He clapped the cap on his head and threw it back. “Fits me just as if it were made for me,” he said, settling the cap firmly in place. “Orderly, I will be with you in a jiffy.” Caroline stood still near the table, her eyes on the floor. “We won’t have to send it now, will we?” he pointed to the letter. Caroline, with a long, deep sigh, shook her head, and slowly handed the letter to him. Wilfred took it mechanically, his eyes fixed on the girl, who had suddenly grown very white of face, trembly of lip, and teary of eye-lashes. “You are very good,” he said, tearing the letter into pieces, “to help me like you did.” “It was nothing,” whispered the girl. “You can help me again, if you want to.” Caroline lifted her eyes to his face, and he saw within their depths that which encouraged him. “I can fight twice as well, if——”