“De ladies is feelin’ very po’ly, sah—Dey axe to be ‘cused—”
“Say to the ladies,” was the stern answer, “that we cannot sit down without their presence. We await them. Ask them to come at once.”
The request was a command.
The women held a council of war.
“I’ll die first,” Mrs. Holland calmly answered.
“You will not,” Virginia firmly declared.
“We’ve something big to live for now. Our country needs us. We too are soldiers from tonight. We play the war game with our enemy—come all of you—”
Without delay she forced them to enter the dining-room. Virginia, Zonia and Marya took seats opposite the intruders, the mother, her accustomed place at the head of the table.
The dinner moved with quiet and orderly dignity until the officers’ faces began to flush with wine. The Lieutenant’s leering eye continually sought Zonia’s.
She avoided his gaze at every turn.