plans.
"Bly, you're not listening! I say I'm coming right over there and get you. We'll go somewhere and get dinner, and then take in the first show."
Blythe roused.
"No!" she said. "Positively no! I simply can't. I thought I sent you word in plenty of time for you to find someone else to go with you."
"No, Blythe, you don't mean that! You know you don't want me to take someone else."
"Why, yes, I certainly do, Dan," she said sweetly. "I'm sure you can find somebody."
The altercation lasted some minutes, and Blythe drew a breath of relief when Dan finally grew angry and hung up the receiver with a slam, furious because she wouldn't tell him where she was going or what engagement she had that she would not break for him.
Annoyed beyond measure at the time he had kept the telephone occupied, Blythe tried to get back her happy serenity, but try as she would, she was worried lest Dan had made her miss the few treasured words she hoped to hear from Charlie. Of course, he hadn't been sure he would be able to call, and this was probably but the beginning of a long weary hopeful waiting. But she put the thought from her. She must not allow her mind to dwell on the possibility of future unhappiness, not on this first day of her new joy. Sorrow and anxiety might come, but she would not dwell on them ahead of time. And this was a day that must be remembered as having been all joy.
It was an anxious evening for Blythe. She was beginning to worry lest Charlie hadn't been able to telephone at all, and perhaps there wouldn't be any way she could hear his voice again, ever! She was also beginning to be afraid the call might come so late that her mother and father would arrive in the midst of it, and there would be questions perhaps, and she might have to explain at once, so that the beauty of Charlie's words might become dimmed before she could savor them fully.
But there she was, being silly and hysterical again! Why couldn't she be sensible? This whole thing was something that had come to her right out of the blue as it were, nothing she had solicited, nothing that any act of hers had brought about, and if it was something sent to her, she ought to be able to trust, and not get excited about it.
It was not until a little after ten that the call did come, and she tried to go to it calmly, so she would not be out of breath to talk.
His voice was very clear in the quiet room.
"Is that you, Blythe?"
"Oh yes, Charlie!" she said joyously. "It is you at last!"
"Yes, beloved," he said. "Are you alone?"
"Yes, I'm alone, and so glad to hear your voice!"
"My precious girl! How wonderful to hear your voice!"
"I was afraid you couldn't make it," she breathed.
"Yes," said the young man, "our train was late and we had to make up time. New orders. And now, I've only a few minutes to talk, so we mustn't waste time. But I've written you a letter, and you may get it in a day or two. It has to go through the regular routine now of course, I think, and you won't know where I am nor where I'm going. But don't mind about that. I just want to say again that I love you. I love you more than I ever dreamed I could love anyone. You opened the way into a heaven of delight when you told me you loved me. I hadn't counted on that. I hadn't thought you ever noticed me. I know I'm going to spend a lot of time rejoicing in your words, in the memory of you in my arms, your face against mine, your lips on mine. It is a greater joy that I ever had hoped could be mine. Even though it must likely be a brief joy, since I have a rendezvous with death."
"Oh Charlie! Don't say that!"
"Well, it's true, beloved! You know I told you if it had not been for that I would never have presumed to tell you what I did." He spoke gravely.
"Well, I'm glad that anything made you tell me," said Blythe happily. "But oh, I pray that it may only be a brief absence and that you will soon come back to me."
"I shall be glad of your prayers, but don't be arbitrary about them. My mother used to say that God must have His way, and it was of no use to try to force any other. I believe God knows what He is doing, don't you? And I've committed myself to this thing, you know. I think it is right. I know it is patriotic."
"Yes, I know," sighed Blythe, "but oh, don't take it for granted that this is going to be the end!"
"No," said the young man's voice, with a clear ring to it, "we won't take anything for granted now, but just our love. Shall it be that way, beloved?"
"Oh yes!" said the girl breathlessly. "And I like the way you say ‘beloved.' I shall remember your voice saying it, always—till you come again."
"That's very precious of you to say. Yes, till I come again—somewhere, sometime. For I do believe there'll be a ‘somewhere' of meeting, don't you? Don't you? No matter what happens?"
"Yes, of course," said Blythe. "But—I'll believe—you will come back. Oh, Charlie! Why didn't we know each other better before? How much time we've lost out of our childhood days!"
"Not enough to keep us from loving, my dear!" His voice was very tender. "Please don't mourn over that or anything else. It is enough for me for the present that I can carry your love with me, your permission to receive my love. You are not angry that I told you. That gives me great joy and strength for my mission. It is more than I have ever dared to ask of life. Will you pray for me that I may be brave as I go forth to my duty? Forget that it is terrible, and think of it as something that must be victorious. Will you do that?"
"Oh yes, dear. Of course."
"Then I shall go armed with courage, feeling that whether I live or die, I shall conquer. And now, I've only a few seconds left to talk, and how can I possibly say all that I have in my heart in that time? But I want you to understand that if you hear nothing from me, perhaps for a long time, or even perhaps never, still I have loved you with all my heart. They have not told me what are to be our circumstances or location, but I feel that communication with our home world may hereafter be greatly restricted, certainly limited, possibly entirely forbidden or impossible, and you will not let yourself grieve about that, will you? You will say in your heart it is all right. You will know I have not forgotten, nor changed. You will remember that?"
"I will remember!" Blythe breathed the words softly, choking back the sobs that kept rising in her throat.
"Dear girl! It was selfish of me to do this to you, and make you unhappy, even for a day. I should have kept my love to myself."
"No, no, don't say that! Please don't!" she pleaded. "Your love is the greatest thing that ever came into my life. I am glad, glad that you told me! I shall be glad always!"
"You dear!" he breathed softly. "You wonderful, beautiful dear!"
There was silence for an instant, and then suddenly a far call, and the young man's voice alert, almost agonized, "They are calling me. I have to go! Good-bye, my precious girl. God keep you!"
And then as he hung up she could hear his voice answering to the call. "Coming!"
CHAPTER V
For
