Mrs. Brunton laughed delightedly. "Garth always sees the funny side," she cooed.
"That certainly is a funny side all right," said Robert, "but he'll never see it! These pasteboard officers never last after they get over—they can only carry it off here. Over there, promotions are on merit, not on political pull."
The third, fourth, and fifth contingents went from the university, and still Garth pursued the quest of learning. His mother openly rebuked the mothers of the boys who had gone. "Let the man on the street go! Look at the unemployed men on our streets!" she said; "why aren't they made to go—and leave our university boys at home?"
"Every man owes a duty to his country," one of the mothers said. "If one man neglects or refuses to pay, that is no reason for others to do the same. This is a holy war—holier than any of the crusades—for the crusader went out to restore the tomb of our Lord, and that is only a material thing; but our boys are going out to give back to the world our Lord's ideals, and I know they are more precious to Him than any tomb could be!"
"My dear Mrs. Mason," said Garth's mother, "you are simply war-mad like so many women—it is impossible to reason with you."
A year went by, and many of the university boys were wounded and some were killed. To the mothers of these went Mrs. Brunton with words of sympathy, but came away wondering. Some way they did not seem to receive her warmly.
"Where is Garth now?" asked one of these women.
"He's thinking of taking the officers' training," answered Mrs. Brunton, "as soon as the college term closes. A boy meets the very nicest people there, and I do think that is so important, to meet nice people."
"And no Germans!" said the other woman tartly.