“Well,” he rejoined slowly, “if there's a war, I don't suppose it can be carried on by the orphans of the country; but, come to think of it, that describes me, though I hadn't thought of myself as that before!”
“No; and why hadn't you thought of it?” demanded the lawyer quickly.
“Well, I never think of myself in that way; my Aunt Virginia's been too good to me, for me to have missed anything in my life in the way of affection, you know that!”
“And you are now considering making her this singularly grateful return for all her goodness.”
“That's so,” said Stephen drily. “I'm all she has, just as she is all I have,” but the acknowledgment was made reluctantly enough.
“I was sure you would think of that,” said Benson.
The boy turned with a sigh to his chair by the window.
“Perhaps there won't be any need of men,” he muttered.
“Let us hope not,” Benson gravely rejoined. “Will you come with me?” he added. “I'm going back to see if Wirt has heard anything more.”
“No, it's not for me, you've shown me that,” said Stephen quietly, taking up his book again.