closing again gently. It was Reba's door that had opened and closed like that. A second later a firm step crossed the hall, and the nervous group at the foot of the stairs, staring up, saw first Nathan's army-shod feet, and in a flash his whole uniformed figure coming quickly down the stairs. He was alone. Reba, then, had remained in her room. That was well, thought David. The young man had only to pick up his army overcoat, there on a chair (his suitcase was already stowed away in the back of the automobile), and they could be off.
David would be glad of that. All the fuss and feathers women-folks do make over a uniform! Even gray-haired women, like Augusta and Emma and Syringa! Had the curtains up in the best parlor ever since Reba had brought home her young husband a week ago! Been using the best china too! And such extravagant cooking! It was unpatriotic in the face of Hoover's instructions. Big juicy rump steaks for supper! There had been a whole week of it, quite enough for David, when orders had come, two days ago, for this Nathan (David found it difficult to use his son-in-law's Christian name) to report at Hoboken. It meant France, of course. Reba had turned suddenly into a dumb, stone sort of creature at the orders. Even David noticed it. Seemed queer to him she should take it so hard—her husband going to France, when she had been so cheerful all those years when he was wandering around among the dangerous, cannibal-inhabited islands, where they send missionaries.
'Twasn't the only thing that seemed queer to David about Reba's marriage either. She had gone forth to
