"He's done it," said the Little Red Doctor. And I was sorry for him, so
much was there of tragic envy in his face.

"Did you give him your blessing?" I asked.

"I did. He shook hands like a man. There's maybe something in that boy,
if it weren't for the old hell-cat of a mother. However, she won't have
much chance. He's off to-morrow."

"Will he write?" said Mayme in a curious, strained voice.

"He will. He'll report to me from time to time."

"Didn't he--wasn't there any message?"

"Just good-bye and good luck," answered the Little Red Doctor, censoring
ruthlessly.

The Bonnie Lassie went over and put her arms around Mayme McCartney.

"My dear," she said softly. "It wouldn't do. It really wouldn't. He
isn't worth it. You're going to forget him."

"All right." Suddenly Mayme looked like a very helpless and sorrowful
little girl. "Only, it--it isn't goin' to be as easy as you think. He
was so pretty," said Mayme McCartney wistfully.


II