like the thought of being a soldier?" she asked. "An American soldier
has to fight so seldom that I have heard that the insurance companies
regard them as the best of risks, so what attraction, Mr. Dru, can a
military career have for you?"

Never before had Philip been asked such a question, and it surprised
him that it should come from this slip of a girl, but he answered her in
the serious strain of his thoughts.

"As far back as I can remember," he said, "I have wanted to be a
soldier. I have no desire to destroy and kill, and yet there is within
me the lust for action and battle. It is the primitive man in me, I
suppose, but sobered and enlightened by civilization. I would do
everything in my power to avert war and the suffering it entails. Fate,
inclination, or what not has brought me here, and I hope my life may not
be wasted, but that in God's own way, I may be a humble instrument for
good. Oftentimes our inclinations lead us in certain directions, and it
is only afterwards that it seems as if fate may from the first have so
determined it."

The mischievous twinkle left the girl's eyes, and the languid tone of
her voice changed to one a little more like sincerity.

"But suppose there is no war," she demanded, "suppose you go on living
at barracks here and there, and with no broader outlook than such a life
entails, will you be satisfied? Is that all you have in mind to do in
the world?"

He looked at her more perplexed than ever. Such an observation of life,
his life, seemed beyond her years, for he knew but little of the women