flash of pride in her black eyes. "They fought in the Revolution, in the
Civil War, and in the Spanish-American War. But now that the country is
again calling men to her aid," she finished with a sigh, "there are no
more Carver men to answer the call. I am the last of the Carvers, and I
am only a woman."

"But you've done all that you _could_ do," said Migwan staunchly.
"You've sent your husband."

Nyoda drew herself up unconsciously as her eyes sought the picture of
Sherry on the mantelpiece with the silk flag draped over it.

"Yes," she echoed softly, "the last of the Carvers has done her bit."

A dinner bell clanged through the house and Nyoda sprang up with a
start. "Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, girls," she exclaimed.
"Scurry upstairs and remove the stains of travel while I consult the
cook."

"Why, Nyoda," said Sahwah in surprise, "I didn't know you had a cook.
You told us coming up from the station that you did all your own work
because you didn't think it was patriotic to hire servants at this time
and take them away from the more essential industries!"

Nyoda looked nonplussed for a moment and then she laughed heartily.
"Special occasion," she remarked ceremoniously, and disappeared with a
chuckle through a door at the end of the hall.

The four girls went leisurely up the broad staircase with its white
spindles and polished mahogany rail to the rooms overhead, furnished