came over and groaned that the British were losing everywhere.
“‘They're good losers,’ said Susan grimly. ‘When they lose a thing they keep on looking till they find it again! Anyhow, my king and country need me now to cut potato sets for the back garden, so get you a knife and help me, Sophia Crawford. It will divert your thoughts and keep you from worrying over a campaign that you are not called upon to run.’
“Susan is an old brick and the way she flattens out poor Cousin Sophia is beautiful to behold.
“As for Verdun, the battle goes on and on, and we seesaw between hope and fear. But I know that strange dream of Miss Oliver’s foretold the victory of France. ‘They shall not pass.’”
WHERE are you wandering, Anne o’ mine?” asked the doctor, who even yet, after twenty-four years of marriage, occasionally addressed his wife thus when nobody was about. Anne was sitting on the veranda steps, gazing absently over the wonderful bridal world of spring blossom. Beyond the white orchard was a copse of dark young firs and creamy wild cherries, where the robins were whistling madly; for it was evening and the fire of early stars was burning over the maple grove.
