either. Her mother was--well, somebody big--don't just recollect the
name. Friendly, Miss Jones is. Not like some, afraid you're going to
forget your place the minute she has a civil word with you. That one with
her is some swell from Washington or New York. You can tell that by the
looks of her, all right. Lord, don't they have it easy though?"




CHAPTER VI


It would indeed seem so. Men looking from the windows of the big
shops--those great shops where army supplies were manufactured--noticed
them with much the same thought, some of them admiringly, some
resentfully, as they chanced to feel about things. They drove past
building after building, buildings in which hundreds of men toiled on
preparations for a possible war. The throb of those engines, sight of the
perspiring faces, might suggest that rather large, a trifle extravagant,
a bit cumbersome, was the price for peace. But these girls did not seem
to be thinking of the possible war, or of the men who earned their bread
thwarting it by preparation. One would suppose them to be just two
beautifully cared for, careless-of-life girls, thinking of what some man
had said at the dance the night before, or of the texture of the plume on
some one's hat, or, to get down to the really serious issues of life,
whether or not they could afford that love of a dinner gown.

They left the main avenue and were winding in and out of the by-roads,
roads which had all the care of a great park and all the charm of the
deep woods. Here and there were soldiers doing nothing more warlike than