everywhere. Place is full of untrained women. Spies have been using
Red Cross passes. Result is that all the lines are drawn as tight as
possible."

Sara Lee stared at him with wide eyes.

"But I can't go back," she said. "I--well, I just can't. They're
raising the money for me, and all sorts of people are giving things.
A--a friend of mine is baking cakes and sending on the money. She
has three children, and--"

She gulped.

"I thought everybody wanted to get help to the Belgians," she said.

A slightly grim smile showed itself on Mrs. Travers' face.

"I'm afraid you don't understand. It is you we want to help. Neither
Mr. Travers nor I feel that a girl so young as you, and alone, has any
place near the firing line. And that, I fancy, is where you wish to go.
As to helping the Belgians, we have four in the house now. They do not
belong to the same social circles, so they prefer tea in their own rooms.
You are quite right about their needing help too. They cannot even make
up their own beds."

"They are not all like that," broke in Mr. Travers hastily.

"Of course not. But I merely think that Miss--er--Kennedy should know
both sides of the picture."