a brief interval she stood still before the instrument, staring hungrily into it, hoping against hope that there would yet be perhaps one more word from her beloved. And then she was suddenly aware of her mother standing in the doorway watching her, astonished.
"Why, my dear!" said the mother. "How did it happen that you came home so early? Dan told me you would probably be late!"
And suddenly, the long wait of the evening with its precious thrilling climax was swept away, as if it had all been a dream, and she was back in her everyday life again, with the usual things and people surrounding her.
"Oh," she said dazedly. "Oh, why no, Mother, I didn't go."
"You didn't go? But, my dear, I told him I was sure you would be delighted. I am afraid you must have been very rude, for he was quite insistent about it, and I understood him to say that you had known about this for some time. Didn't I make you understand that I had promised you would call him? It certainly was very rude of you if you did not."
"But I did, Mother. I called him right away after you went, and left word for him that I couldn't go to-night. I left word with their butler, and then Dan called up himself later and I explained that I couldn't go to-night. I had something else to do that was important."
"Important?" said her mother, eyeing her bewilderedly. "What was it, dear? I don't understand. I thought this was your free evening. I told him that."
"Yes, Mother, but this was something that came up that you didn't know about. I had promised to be at home all the evening for a phone call."
"A phone call! Why, who was calling that you felt was important enough to make you miss going out with Dan? When you had practically promised him you would go with him?"
Blythe's face flushed.
"But I hadn't promised Dan, Mother. He had never made a definite date for this, and he can't expect me to dance attendance every time he speaks. I have a few other friends and interests."
"Oh," said her mother significantly. "I thought you considered Dan's wishes would be paramount. I thought you were especially fond of him."
"Oh, not especially fond, Mother. He's just a good friend. But I wasn't rude to him, really, Mother. I left word I couldn't go to-night, and when he called up I tried to explain to him that something had come up that I felt I ought to do."
"But who was this person who presumed to ask you to stay at home all the evening? Couldn't you have called him up and told him that you found you could not be here?"
"No, Mother. I had no way to reach him till he called. He was a soldier friend who was leaving—for the front—and he had asked if he might call me to say good-bye when he left. I said yes, I would be at home all the evening."
"But a soldier boy, just one of those soldiers at the canteen? Strange boys you don't know very well? It couldn't possibly have made any difference with him. I think, Blythe, that sometimes you confuse your obligations and let trifles hinder more important things. In fact, I've been a good deal worried at the number of hours you are spending in that social service down there at the canteen. Of course I want you to be patriotic and all that, but you are just sticking in the house and working hard almost every minute of your life, and it is time you had a little brightness and fun, or you will wither up and get to be old before your time."
"Oh, Mother!" protested the girl. "I—you—you don't understand. This was a special soldier, going into danger, and his mother had died. He wanted somebody to say good-bye to before he went."
"Oh, yes," said her mother a bit sadly. "They're all going into danger, of course, and of course we all feel sorry for them. But you, Blythe, can't take every one of those soldier boys on your heart and feel sorry for them. There are plenty of people over there at the center, good, motherly women, who would be glad to give a boy good advice before he leaves for the front. That's what they are there for. He didn't need to pick out a young girl and hold her up for an evening just to say good-bye. Those boys haven't always got good sense. I have no patience with them. It is all right, of course, for you to play games with them and make them have a cheerful time, but I do think you ought to hold your home time free for your own friends. Blythe, I'm really worried about you. I don't want you to go to extremes in anything, and you know these boys in their uniforms may be very attractive and all that, but when they get across the water they'll forget all about the girl that sacrificed what she wanted to do just to humor them."
But Mother, it wasn't like that! I didn't want to go with Dan to-night. I really didn't. I was tired and wanted to stay at home and get caught up with several things, and I had some letters to write. You see——"
Blythe hesitated and looked troubled. She was almost on the verge of telling her mother all about Charlie Montgomery, only somehow this seemed no time to bring out that precious experience and tell it in every detail. Her mother was in no mood to sympathize and understand just now. She was evidently too much annoyed about her failing Dan Seavers.
"You see," said Mrs. Bonniwell, "I had a long talk to-day with Mrs. Seavers. She is so pleased that you are going so intimately with Dan. She says it has made her feel so safe and happy about him, so content that he is in good company and not getting in with a wild set. She has been greatly troubled about a girl who sings at one of the nightclubs, in whom he has been interested, and she was so relieved when he took to asking you to go places. I do think you ought to consider other people as well as those young boys in the soldiers' canteen. You know it would be really worthwhile to help a young man like Dan Seavers. A young man in his position would have a great many temptations, and a young girl with right principles can often strengthen her young men friends by her friendship and be doing something really worthwhile. You know Dan is in line for an officer's commission, and what he is will be an influence on all the soldiers under him. If I were you I would consider how wonderful it would be to help anchor Dan to the right kind of people."
"But Mother, that's just it. I don't like the kind of men and girls that come around Dan. More and more it is getting so that I feel uncomfortable in his company. I don't think you would like them either, Mother, if you could be with us sometimes."
"Well, that's unfortunate, but don't you think a good girl can usually dominate a situation wherever she is and show them how much better a right-minded girl is than one who is loud and coarse and common?"
Blythe looked troubled.
"No, Mother, not always. I used to think so, but lately I've been places with Dan where I felt as if I were being soiled and trampled underfoot."
"Blythe!" said her mother. "You don't mean Dan would allow anybody to be rude to you while you were in his company?"
"I don't think Dan feels the difference. He doesn't understand why I don't enjoy going places with people like that."
"Oh, my dear! I'm sorry to hear that. But don't you think you might be able to win him away from that kind of people?"
"I'm afraid not, Mother," said the troubled Blythe sadly, thinking in her heart that there were going to be a lot of questions to settle that she had not thought of yet. How was she going to make her mother understand? Oh, this was something she had to think out before she talked any more about it, even with her mother. But for the present her inmost heart told her that she had no taste nor interest in going anywhere with Dan or any other young man, now that she knew of Charlie's love, and while he was off engaged in a terrible undertaking for the cause of freedom. Oh, of course, she would have to go about as usual and be pleasant and interested in life as it had to be lived here on this side of the world, but good times were not the
