To-night my father brought in the Emblem and folded it.  He then said: 

“Well, I admit that Fathers are not real Substatutes for young men in Unaform, but in times of Grief they may be mighty handy to tie to.”  He then put his arms around me and said:  “You see, Bab, the real part of War, for a woman—­and you are that now, Bab, in spite of your years—­the real thing she has to do is not the fighting part, although you are about as good a soldier as any I know.  The thing she has to do is to send some one she cares about, and then sit back and wait.”

As he saw that I was agatated, he then kissed me and sugested that we learn something more than the first verse of the National Hymn, as he was tired of making his lips move and thus pretending to sing when not actualy doing so.

I shall now record about Carter Brooks coming today.  I was in a chair with pilows and so on, when Leila came in and kissed me, and then said: 

“Bab, are you able to see a caller?”

I said yes, if not the Police, as I had seen a great many and was tired of telling about Henry and Henry’s friend, etcetera.

“Not the Police,” she said.

She then went out in the hall and said: 

“Come up.  It’s all right.”

I then saw a Soldier in the door, and could not beleive that it was Carter Brooks, until he saluted and said: 

“Captain, I have come to report.  Owing to the end of the Easter Holadays the Girls’ Aviation Corps——­”

I could no longer be silent.  I cried: 

“Oh, Carter!”

So he came into the room and turned round, saying: 

“Some soldier, eh?”

Leila had gone out, and all at once I knew that my Patriotism was not what I had thought it, for I could not bear to see him going to War, especialy as his mother would be lonly without him.

Although I have never considered myself weak, I now felt that I was going to cry.  I therfore said in a low voice to give me a Handkercheif, and he gave me one of his.

“Why, look here,” he said, in an astounded manner, “you aren’t crying about me, are you?”

I said from behind his Handkercheif that I was not, except being sorry for his mother and also for him on account of Leila.

“Leila!” he said.  “What about Leila?”

“She is lost to you forever,” I replied in a choking tone.  “She is betrothed to another.”

He became very angry at that, and observed: 

“Look here, Bab.  One minute I think you are the cleverest Girl in the World, and the next—­you little stuped, do you still insist on thinking that I am in love with Leila?”

At that time I began to feel very queer, being week and at the same time excited and getting red, the more so as he pulled the Handkercheif from my eyes and commanded me:  “Bab, look at me.  Do I look as though I care for Leila?”

I, however, could not look at him just then.  Because I felt that I could not endure to see the Unaform.