"Don't talk to him like that, Josephine," said Mr. Belknap, visibly wishing that he knew how to talk to his son himself, but perceiving that his wife was on the wrong tack.
"Don't you see, father, that there's no use talking at all? I'm going to get to France anyhow."
"In defiance of our wishes?"
"Oh, you'll forget all that later," said Troy.
Mrs. Belknap began to cry, and her husband turned on her.
"My dear, you're really—really—I understand Troy!" he blurted out, his veins swelling too.
"But if the Red Cross is to send you on that mission to Italy, why shouldn't Troy wait and go as your secretary?" Mrs. Belknap said, tacking skilfully.
Mr. Belknap, who had not yet made up his mind to accept the mission, made it up on the instant. "Yes, Troy—why not? I shall be going myself—in a month or so."
"I want to go to France," said his son. And he added, laughing with sudden courage: "You see, you've never refused me a birthday present yet."