"All right, Eleanor, we understand each other, even if we do not agree,"
said Carley. "You leave the future of women to chance, to life, to
materialism, not to their own conscious efforts. I want to leave it to
free will and idealism."
"Carley, you are getting a little beyond me," declared Eleanor,
dubiously.
"What are you going to do? It all comes home to each individual woman.
Her attitude toward life."
"I'll drift along with the current, Carley, and be a good sport,"
replied Eleanor, smiling.
"You don't care about the women and children of the future? You'll
not deny yourself now, and think and work, and suffer a little, in the
interest of future humanity?"
"How you put things, Carley!" exclaimed Eleanor, wearily. "Of course I
care--when you make me think of such things. But what have I to do with
the lives of people in the years to come?"
"Everything. America for Americans! While you dawdle, the life blood is
being sucked out of our great nation. It is a man's job to fight; it is
a woman's to save.... I think you've made your choice, though you don't
realize it. I'm praying to God that I'll rise to mine."
Carley had a visitor one morning earlier than the usual or conventional
time for calls.
"He wouldn't give no name," said the maid. "He wears soldier clothes,
ma'am, and he's pale, and walks with a cane."
"Tell him I'll be right down," replied Carley.
Her hands trembled while she hurriedly dressed. Could this caller be
Virgil Rust? She hoped so, but she doubted.
As she entered the parlor a tall young man in worn khaki rose to meet
her. At first glance she could not name him, though she recognized the
pale face and light-blue eyes, direct and steady.
"Good morning, Miss Burch," he said. "I hope you'll excuse so early a
call. You remember me, don't you? I'm George Burton, who had the bunk
next to Rust's."
"Surely I remember you, Mr. Burton, and I'm glad to see you," replied
Carley, shaking hands with him. "Please sit down. Your being here must
mean you're discharged from the hospital."
"Yes, I was discharged, all right," he said.
"Which means you're well again. That is fine. I'm very glad."
"I was put out to make room for a fellow in bad shape. I'm still shaky
and weak," he replied. "But I'm glad to go. I've pulled through pretty
good, and it'll not be long until I'm strong again. It was the 'flu'
that kept me down."