The words filtered negligently through Elliott's inattention. All her conscious thoughts were centered on her father's handwriting. She had had a cable before, but this was his first letter. It almost made her cry to see the familiar script and know that she could get nothing but letters from him for a whole long year. No hugs, no kisses, no rumpling of her hair or his, no confidential little talks--no anything that had been her meat and drink for years. How did people endure such separations? A big lump came up in her throat and the tears pricked her eyes; but she swallowed very hard and blinked once or twice and vowed, "I won't cry, I _won't_!" And then suddenly, through her preoccupation, she became aware of a hush fallen on the bubbling expectancy of the room. Glancing up from the page, she saw Henry standing in the doorway. Even to unfamiliar eyes there was something strangely arresting in the boy's look, a shocked gravity that cut like a premonition. "They say Ted Gordon's been killed," he said. "Ted--Gordon!" cried Laura. "Practice flight, at camp. Nobody knows any particulars. Cy Jones told Father." The boy's voice sounded dry and hard. "Are they certain there is no mistake?" his mother asked quietly. "I guess it's true. Cy said the Gordons had a telegram." "I must go over at once." Mrs. Cameron rose, putting the letters into Laura's hands, and took off her apron. "I'll bring the car around for you," said Henry. "Thank you." She smiled at him and turned to the girls. "You know what we are having for dinner, Laura. Priscilla will help make the shortcake, I'm sure. I will be back as soon as I can." Mutely the four watched the little car roll out of the yard and down the hill. Then Henry spoke. "Letters?" "From Bob," said Laura. "Did she read 'em?" Laura shook her head. "Gee!" said the boy. "Perhaps she thought she couldn't," hesitated Laura, "and go over there." A moment of silence held the room. Henry broke it. "Well, we're not going. Let's hear 'em." Elliott took a step toward the door. "Needn't run away unless you want to," he called after her. "We always read Bob's letters aloud."