"Glad? Glad I have lost my only child? Doctor, what are you thinking of!"
"Of you. Whatever troubles you troubles me, also. You know that, don't you?"
For an instant she was frightened, but his calm friendliness reassured her. "Thank you," she returned, "you have always been good to me."
"I shall always try to be. Nothing that comes to you is without meaning for me, and you will always have at least one friend." There was an eloquent silence, then the tension of the moment snapped, and he released her hand.
"I'm silly," she laughed hysterically, wiping her eyes. "Have you any medicine for silliness?"
"If I had, I should keep it for those who need it worse than you do. I wish you would go outdoors more. Walk on the parade-ground and across to your mother's,—those two places are certainly safe,—and when you get tired of that, go over to Mrs. Franklin's. She's a nice little woman and she needs cheering up, too. I have a suspicion, Mrs. Howard, that the temperament which urges a man to be a soldier is very seldom elastic enough to include the domestic hearth."
Katherine's face brightened, for she had not thought of that, and the suggestion that others had the same trouble was not without its dubious consolation.
For an hour or more he talked to her, telling her bits of news from the barracks which he thought would interest her, and offering fragments of philosophy as the occasion permitted.
"You're a tonic," she said lightly, as he rose to go; "the blues are all gone."