“Elfrida!” said Mr. Force one day, “I cannot stand it any longer! We must go home, my dear, and be with our country in her need! Not to burn and slay and rob on one side or the other, but to nurse the wounded and feed the hungry, and clothe the naked—and give all our time, money and energy to this needful work. You and your daughters and even your crippled husband can do this much to abate the pain of the age!” He had said words to the same effect before, but never with so much of sorrowful earnestness as now. “Well, we will go, Abel. Yes; it is indeed our duty to do so. Besides, our Odalite is wasting away with hope deferred! We have not heard from Le for so many months! He may be dead on some crowded battlefield, or ill and delirious in some hospital, or in some prison! We might find out his fate by going home. And then there is poor little Rosemary fretting out her heart about young Bayard, who has never been heard of since he sailed with Capt. Grandiere, now nearly three years ago! We might find out something satisfactory about him. We all need to go home! There is no one but Wynnette who is not breaking down under this anxiety and uncertainty! Wynnette thanks Heaven every day that Sam Grandiere chooses to stay home and mind his crops. As for Elva, she makes every one’s trouble her own and suffers for and with all. Yes, we all need to go home.” “And our home and our country needs us,” added Mr. Force. So it was decided that they should return home as soon as passages for their whole party could be secured. Mrs. Force dreaded to tell her brother of the impending separation. The earl had grown so much better in health, spirits and happiness while traveling in their company, that it would seem like relegating him to gloom, solitude and despondency to send him back alone to his old life at Enderby Castle. She took the time immediately after breakfast the next morning to break the news to him. “Going! Going back to America!” he exclaimed, in astonishment. “Yes. It is our bounden duty. The war is not the temporary disturbance that you thought it was to be. It is growing more terrible every month. It may last yet for years. We must go to our home and do the best we can for everybody,” replied the lady. And then she went over the whole subject as it had been discussed between herself and her husband. “Yes, my dear, it is your duty to go home,” admitted the earl. “Still, my dear brother, we are very sorry to leave you. I hope, however, that you will not go back to Enderby Castle, to your old solitary life there. It is very bad for you. I hope you will go up to London, and open your house on Westbourne Terrace, and call your friends together and entertain them, even though I shall not be there with my daughters to help you, as I had once hoped to be.” “I shall not go to London, Elfrida. I have no friends there, and I hate society. No; I shall go to the United States with you,” said the earl.