turned to her mother. "I'm afraid you'll find I've made some queer
friends, mother."

"What do you mean by 'queer'?"

"People no proper Cardew would care to know." She smiled. "Where's
Ellen? I want to tell her I met somebody she knows out there, the
nicest sort of a boy." She went to the doorway and called lustily:
"Ellen! Ellen!" The rustling of starched skirts answered her from
down the corridor.

"I wish you wouldn't call, dear." Grace looked anxious. "You know
how your grandfather--there's a bell for Ellen."

"What we need around here," said Lily, cheerfully, "is a little more
calling. And if grandfather thinks it is unbefitting the family
dignity he can put cotton in his ears. Come in, Ellen. Ellen, do
you know that I met Willy Cameron in the camp?"

"Willy!" squealed Ellen. "You met Willy? Isn't he a fine boy, Miss
Lily?"

"He's wonderful," said Lily. "I went to the movies with him every
Friday night." She turned to her mother. "You would like him,
mother. He couldn't get into the army. He is a little bit lame.
And--" she surveyed Grace with amused eyes, "you needn't think what
you are thinking. He is tall and thin and not at all good-looking.
Is he, Ellen?"

"He is a very fine young man," Ellen said rather stiffly. "He's