you and daddy unhappy. I suppose I am changed same. no one could see what I've seen and remain the But my love for my dear ones . . for you and daddy and Dick . . . is greater than it ever could have been before I learned what love really means in this world where hatred and selfishness hold the upper hand." "But, my child, that isn't true," Mrs. Stewart protested. "The Bible teaches 99 “Dearie,” Lola interrupted with a sigh, "there are hundreds of thousands of sweet, good people like you who refuse to believe this because they don't want to believe it; but until the fact is recognized the task of fighting it is made more difficult. What any one person can do is so insignificant that it is absolutely discouraging. Take my work with the disabled boys here . . ." "You are spending too much time and are working too hard with them, Lola." "The hard part, dear, and that which takes the most time, is occasioned by the lack of co-operation and appreciation on the part of those who were overzealous during the period of war hysteria. Why, I can't even get enough motor cars to take my disabled soldiers riding, when before there were more cars offered than could be used! It is simply disheartening, mother, and this apathy triples the responsibilities of those who still realize the necessities." "But do you have to do it all, Lola?" Mrs. Stewart asked. "Do you think your new duties relieve you of your old ones? Your father and I aren't disabled soldiers, but our hearts are wounded, dear. Perhaps Dick's heart is hurt a little, too." III Lola felt the criticism, and her first reaction was that in making it even her mother was touched by the epidemic of selfishness which contaminated the world. Perhaps she was not giving to her parents and to Richard the former undivided affection, but they needed it so much less than these helpless, half-neglected heroes who had so freely contributed their present and their future to save humanity. Of course her mother did not realize that what she asked was selfish, but the sum total of this lack of realization was what produced the unhappy condition. "Haven't you found happiness in what you have done for Barry?" she asked. "Great happiness, my child, not only in what it has meant to him but also in the joy I have seen come to you to have me do it. I rejoice in this opportunity to work with you, even in a small way, and I wish I might do more. But, Lola dear, I should consider myself to blame if I permitted my new responsibilities to make me forget my old ones. I wouldn't have you give up your work. Just keep it within reason, and remember that you can't do it all yourself." Lola rose wearily and seated herself disconsolately in a near-by chair. Mrs. Stewart watched her anxiously, fearing lest she had said too much, yet convinced that her daughter needed another viewpoint for her own good. "Other girls who went to France have returned and taken up their lives just where they left them," Mrs. Stewart suggested. "I know it, mother dear," Lola admitted, "and sometime I wish I were like them. A lot of the girls went over there because they craved adventure. Some of them did their work well, and all were satisfied. There were others who went because they simply had to do something, and in doing for others found greater personal happiness than they had ever known. That is true of me, dearie. I should be miserably unhappy to cease doing now, when the necessity for service is so much greater than ever before." "Yet I have never seen you so wretched as since you returned." "Doesn't the one go with the other, dear? We can't reach the heights without touching the depths, can we? I'm not choosing the suffering and the despair. It just comes as a payment I have to make for the real happiness I've experienced in being able to do something for others." Mrs. Stewart was deeply impressed by Lola's words. For the first time since her daughter's return she had been permitted to enter the inner shrine, and what she saw there was inexpressibly beautiful. She closed her eyes for a moment and thanked God for this child of hers, and when she opened them again they were filled with tears. She rose quietly, and putting her arms around Lola's neck, kissed her affectionately. "I never realized before how deeply you felt it,” she whispered. "It seemed to me that it was over-zealous devotion to a fetish, but perhaps I am wrong. Your happiness, dear child, is all that your father and I live for, and if it lies in this direction, we must try to help you." "Oh, mother darling!" the girl cried, "you don't know what it would mean to me if you could only understand! I have realized all the time that you were waiting for me to lay aside my work as I do my golfsticks after the game is finished. This isn't a game, dear,.. it is the real thing. It is life itself and will never be finished. I don't mean to neglect my old responsibilities except so far as the new ones are more vitally important. I don't mean to try to do it all. If you and daddy and my real friends would only understand this and help me, it would make it so much easier." "Perhaps I am thinking too much of ourselves and of you," Mrs. Stewart admitted. "Now that the awful tragedy is over, it is natural that we should be eager to forget it and take up our lives again as if nothing had happened." IV Lola turned from her mother with a sigh of disappointment. As if nothing had happened! This from her own sweet, sympathetic, usually-comprehending mother! It was hopeless. No one except those who had seen the awful crucible of war could understand. For years to come curious tourists would cross the ocean to gaze at martyred towns in devastated France, |