She cut another slice and he covered it generously with jam.  Then little Clarissa Eileen entered and pressed against her mother’s skirts, subjecting Stransky to childhood’s scrutiny.  He waved a finger at her and grinned and drew his eyes together in a squint at the bridge of his nose, making a funny face that brought a laugh.

“Your child?” Stransky asked Minna.

“Yes.”

“Where’s her father?  Away fighting?”

“I don’t know where he is!”

“Oh!” he mused.  “Was that blow for him at the same time as for me?” he pursued thoughtfully.

“Yes, for all of your kind.”

“M-m-m!” came from between his lips as he rose.  “Would you mind holding out your hand?” he asked with a gentleness singularly out of keeping with his rough aspect.

“Why?” she demanded.

“I’ve never studied any books of etiquette of polite society, and I am a poor sort at making speeches, anyhow.  But I want to kiss a good woman’s hand by way of apology.  I never kissed one in my life, but I’m getting a lot of new experiences to-day.  Will you?”

She held out her hand at arm’s length and flushed slightly as he pressed his lips to it.

“You certainly do cut thick slices of bread,” he said, smiling.  “And you certainly are pretty,” he added, passing out of the door as jauntily as if he were ready for another fight and just in time to see the colonel of the regiment come around the house.  He stood at the salute, half proudly, half defiantly, but in nowise humbly.

“Well, Major Dellarme!” was the colonel’s greeting of the company commander.

“Major?” exclaimed Dellarme.

“Yes.  Partow has the power.  Four of the aviators have iron crosses already and promotion, too; and you are a major.  Company G got into a mess and the whole regiment would have been in one unless you held on.  So I let you stay.  It all came out right, as Lanstron planned—­right so far.  But your losses have been heavy and here you are in the thick of it again.  Your company may change places with Company E, which has had a relatively easy time.”

“No, sir; we would prefer to stay,” Dellarme answered quietly.

“Good!  Then you will take this battalion and I’ll transfer Groller to Alvery’s Bad loss, Alvery—­shrapnel.  The artillery has been doing ugly work, but that is all in favor of the defensive.  If we can hold them on this line till to-morrow noon, it’s all we want for the present,” he concluded.

“We’ll hold them!  Don’t worry!” put in Stransky.

If a private had spoken to a colonel in this fashion at drill, without being spoken to, it would have been a glaring breach of military etiquette.  Now that they were at war it was different.  Real comradeship between officer and man begins with war.

“We shall, eh?” chuckled the colonel.  “You look big enough to hold anything, young man!  Here!  Isn’t this the fellow that Lanstron got off?”