There was nothing new in this argument or in this position to Mr. Romayne, but somehow, as he looked at the girl's eager, enthusiastic face, and heard her passionate denunciation of war, he found it difficult to defend the justice of war under any circumstances whatever. “I entirely agree with you, Miss Gwynne, that war is utterly horrible, that it is silly, that it is wicked. I would rather not discuss it with you, but I can't help feeling that there are circumstances that make it necessary and right for men to fight.” “You don't wish to discuss this with me?” said Kathleen. “I am sorry, for I have always wished to hear a soldier who is also”--the girl hesitated for a moment--“a gentleman and a Christian--” “Thank you, Miss Gwynne,” said Romayne, with quiet earnestness. “Discuss the reasons why war is ever necessary.” “It is a very big subject,” said Mr. Romayne, “and some day I should like to give you my point of view. There are multitudes of people in Britain to-day, Miss Gwynne, who would agree with you. Lots of books have been written on both sides. I have listened to hours and hours of discussion, so that you can easily see that there is much to be said on both sides. I always come back, however, to the point that among nations of similar ethical standards and who are equally anxious to preserve the peace of the world, arbitration as a method of settling disputes ought to be perfectly simple and easy. It is only when you have to deal with nations whose standards of ethics are widely dissimilar or who are possessed with another ambition than that of preserving the peace of the world that you get into difficulty.” “I see your point,” replied Kathleen, “but I also see that just there you allow for all sorts of prejudice to enter and for the indulgence in unfair argument and special pleading. But there, we are finished,” she said, “and you do not wish to discuss this just now.” “Some time, Miss Gwynne, we shall have this out, and I have some literature on the subject that I should like to give you.” “And so have I,” cried the girl, with a smile that rendered Mr. Romayne for some moments quite incapable of consecutive thought. “And now shall we look up the others?” At the dump they found Joe and Sam rolling the logs, which during the winter had been piled high upon the bank, down the steep declivity or “dump” into the stream below. Mrs. Waring-Gaunt and Nora were seated on a log beside them engaged in talk. “May I inquire if you are bossing the job as usual?” said Mr. Romayne, after he had watched the operation for a few moments. “Oh, no, there's no bossing going on to-day. But,” said the girl, “I rather think the boys like to have me around.” “I don't wonder,” said Mr. Romayne, enthusiastically. “Are you making fun of me, Mr. Romayne?” said the girl, her face indicating that she was prepared for battle. “God forbid,” replied Mr. Romayne, fervently.