"this is 'Our Father' week! Don't tire out the Lord with the '_Now I
lay me_,' Rose Mamie!"

With an exclamation of regret Rose Mary clasped him closer and led the
petition on through to its last word, though it was with difficulty
that the sleepy General reached his Amen, his will being strong but
his flesh weak. The little black head burrowed under Rose Mary's chin
and the clasped pink feet relaxed before the final words were said.
For a few minutes Rose Mary held him tenderly and buried her face
against the back of the sunburned little neck, while as helpless as
young Tucker Stonie wilted upon her breast and floated off into the
depths. And for still a few seconds longer Everett sat very still and
watched them with a curious gleam in his eyes and his teeth set hard
in his cigar; then he rose, bent over and very tenderly lifted the
relaxed General in his arms and without a word strode into the house
with him. Very carefully he laid him in the little cot that stood
beside Rose Mary's bed in her room down the hall, and with equal care
he settled the little dog against the bare, briar-scratched feet,
returned to the moonlight porch and resumed his seat at Rose Mary's
side.

"There is something about the General," he remarked with a half smile,
"that--that gets next. He has a moral fiber that I hope he will be
able to keep resistent to its present extent, but I doubt it."

"Oh," said Rose Mary, quickly looking up with pierced, startled eyes,
"he must keep it--he must; it is the only hope for him. Tell me if you
can how to help him keep it. Help me help him!"

"Forgive me," answered Everett in quick distress. "I was only