at dinner-parties, led to endless wrangles, gave zest and point to
the peace that made those dinner parties possible, furnished an
excuse for retrenchment here and there, and brought into vogue great
bazaars and balls for the Red Cross and kindred activities.

But although the war was in the nation's mind, it was not yet in
its soul.

Life went on much as before. An abiding faith in the Allies was
the foundation stone of its complacency. The great six-months
battle of the Somme, with its million casualties, was resulting
favorably. On the east the Russians had made some gains. There
were wagers that the Germans would be done in the Spring.

But again Washington knew that the British and French losses at the
Somme had been frightful; that the amount of lost territory
regained was negligible as against the territory still held; that
the food problem in the British Islands was acute; that the submarine
sinkings were colossal. Our peace was at a fearful cost.

And on the edge of this volcano America played.

When Graham Spencer left the mill that Tuesday afternoon, it was to
visit Marion Hayden. He was rather bored now at the prospect. He
would have preferred going to the Club to play billiards, which was
his custom of a late afternoon. He drove rather more slowly than
was his custom, and so missed Marion's invitation to get there
before the crowd.

Three cars before the house showed that she already had callers,