"I can see how he would take it!" she exclaimed. "I see his white hair, his eyes, his fingers trembling on the edge of the table, his utter dejection--and then impulse, headlong, irresponsible, craving the devil's company!" "Yes, nothing could hold him," Lanstron agreed. "What makes it worse is that with regular living, the pleasure of the garden, and a settled purpose I have noticed his improvement already!" "There is something so fine about him, something that deserves to win out against his weaknesses," she said reflectively. "If there is no war, I hope--after a year or so, I hope and believe that I may have him rewarded in some way that would make him feel that he had atoned." "And we have been talking as if war were due to-morrow!" she exclaimed. The breaking light of a discovery, followed by a wave of happy relief, swept over her responsive features, from relaxing brows to chin, which gave a toss on its own account. "Why, of course, Lanny! Till war does come he is only a gardener with an illusion that is giving mental strength. Why didn't you put it that way before?" she asked in surprise at so easy a solution having escaped them. "Let him stay, at least until war comes." "And then?" "Lanny, you yourself, with all your information, you don't think--" "No; though we are nearer it than ever before, it seems to me," he said, choosing his words carefully. "But it is likely that diplomacy will find its way out of this crisis as it has out of many others." "Then we'll leave that question till the evil day," she replied. "We have had a terrific argument, Lanny, haven't we? And you have won!" Her fingers flew out to his arm and rested lightly there after an instant's firm pressure, as was her wont after an argument and they sheathed their blades. Their comradeship seemed to be restored in all its old glory of freedom from petty restraint. He was sure of one thing: that she would let her fingers remain on no other man's sleeve in this fashion; and he hoped that she would let them remain there a long time. Very foolish he was about her, very foolish for a piece of human machinery driven by the dynamo of a human will. "I have an impression that your goodness of heart has won," he suggested gently. "Or rather let us say that Feller has won." "Better still, yes, Feller has won!" he agreed. "Oh, it is good, good, good to be here with you, Marta, away from the grind for a little while," he was saying, in the fulness of his anticipation of the hours they should have together before he had to go, when they heard the sound of steps. He looked around to see an orderly from the nearest military wireless station. "I was told it was urgent, sir," said the orderly, in excuse for his intrusion, as he passed a telegram to Lanstron. Immediately Lanstron felt the touch of the paper his features seemed to take on a mask that concealed his thought as he read: "Take night express. Come direct from station to me. Partow."