dear, and by to-morrow he'll be feeling all right again."

"I know," said Betty, a little catch in her breath. "It isn't so bad
now, but I was just thinking what it would be like, if he were
wounded on the battlefield, with no one to look after him--and--and--"

"Oh, Betty, we just mustn't think of things like that!" said Mollie,
her voice quivering. "No matter how we feel, we've just got to keep
on smiling for the boys' sake."

"I know," said Betty, straightening up with a pathetic little attempt
at a smile. "We'll all have to say like the little boy that fell down
and hurt himself, 'I'm not cryin'; I'm laughin'.' Yes, we're coming."
This last was interpolated by way of encouragement to Frank, who had
been sent back to look for them.

They found Allen propped up in a huge armchair before a fire, which
had been hastily laid in the grate, looking rather pale and wan, but
tremendously interested in the proceedings, nevertheless.

"Betty," he said pleadingly, stretching out a hand to her.

Without a word she went over to him, taking it in both her own.

"I don't want you to go out of my sight," he whispered, while the
others thoughtfully looked the other way. "My shoulder doesn't ache
when you're around," he added whimsically, knowing how clearly Betty
saw through him; "but when you go away, the ache in it is--fiendish!"

"I won't go away," Betty promised, touching the bandaged shoulder