"I'll tell you later.--Now let me speak with the others. There is nothing more for us to talk about, is there?" "I'm sorry I spoke so lightly about the war," Philip said, grasping Huntington's hand as they separated. "I have fighting in my blood somewhere, and I'm so excited over it all that I forget myself sometimes." "War means to forget one's self at all times, my boy," Huntington answered kindly. "With all its savagery, with all its brutal return to primeval instincts, the sacrifices and the heroism it calls for ennoble those who are drawn into its hideous vortex. No man can once feel this and ever again look upon life in a small way. That is why, under certain circumstances, I might favor Billy's desire." "That is my second desire," Billy carefully explained; "my first is that Merry become a member of our family." "To that," his uncle replied, "I have already given my unqualified approval." The boys left them and they continued to the house. Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher met them at the steps. "I had begun to fear that you and Merry were lost," Marian said, after Huntington greeted his host. "We have been lost a long time," Huntington replied, with a meaning they did not comprehend; "now we have indeed found ourselves." He took Merry's hand in his and stood for a moment looking at them both. "Would this time be inopportune," he continued, "to ask if you can spare this little girl to some one who loves her very dearly?" "So Billy has persuaded you to become his champion?" Mrs. Thatcher said with some annoyance. "I didn't think Merry cared for him. He is so irresponsible, Mr. Huntington. It is difficult to refuse anything you ask, but couldn't the matter wait?" "The boy isn't grown up enough to think of such things yet," Thatcher added. Huntington smiled quietly at the natural mistake. "It is for one who is perhaps too far grown up I stand as champion, but I am hoping you will not look upon that as an obstacle. I did for many months, but Merry has a way of making one forget his years." "You!" Marian cried. "You don't mean it, my dear fellow!" Thatcher held out his hand cordially. "We children ask the parental blessing." Merry slipped by, into her mother's arms. "Oh! Momsie! I am happy at last!" "You have certainly kept us in the dark!" Marian exclaimed, recovering from her surprise. Then the pleasure in her face changed to one of concern. "You have loved Merry, yet stood aside these weeks?" "I could not believe that she could care for me." "Almost a triple tragedy!" Marian said soberly, so low that only Huntington heard her. "Can any one ever forgive me!" "Come, we must tell Edith and Cosden," Thatcher urged. "They are consumed with impatience to see you." "Let us wait until dinner," Huntington suggested. "Billy must be considered, for the dear boy believes himself madly in love with Merry,--even as I did once with her mother." "Nonsense!" laughed Marian.