Albert shook his head. He had heard only about half of the housekeeper's story. “Pretty rough on him, I should say,” he commented, absently.
“I GUESS 'twas rough on him, poor thing! But 'twas his duty and so he done it. It was rough on Helen, havin' to go and leave him, but 'twas rougher still on him. It's always roughest, seems to me,” she added, “on the ones that's left behind. Those that go have somethin' to take up their minds and keep 'em from thinkin' too much. The ones that stay to home don't have much to do EXCEPT think. I hope you don't get the notion that I feel your part of it is easy, Al. Only a poor, crazy idiot could read the papers these days and feel that any part of this war was EASY! It's awful, but--but it WILL keep you too busy to think, maybe.”
“I shouldn't wonder, Rachel. I understand what you mean.”
“We're all goin' to miss you, Albert. This house is goin' to be a pretty lonesome place, I cal'late. Your grandma'll miss you dreadful and so will I, but--but I have a notion that your grandpa's goin' to miss you more'n anybody else.”
He shook his head. “Oh, not as much as all that, Rachel,” he said. “He and I have been getting on much better than we used to and we have come to understand each other better, but he is still disappointed in me. I'm afraid I don't count for much as a business man, you see; and, besides, Grandfather can never quite forget that I am the son of what he calls a Portygee play actor.”
Mrs. Ellis looked at him earnestly. “He's forgettin' it better every day, Albert,” she said. “I do declare I never believed Capt'n Lote Snow could forget it the way he's doin'. And you--well, you've forgot a whole lot, too. Memory's a good thing, the land knows,” she added, sagely, “but a nice healthy forgetery is worth consider'ble--some times and in some cases.”
Issachar Price's comments on his fellow employee's decision to become a soldier were pointed. Issy was disgusted.
“For thunder sakes, Al,” he demanded, “'tain't true that you've enlisted to go to war and fight them Germans, is it?”
Albert smiled. “I guess it is, Issy,” he replied.
“What's the matter, Issy? Don't you approve?”
“Approve! No, by crimus, I don't approve! I think it's a divil of a note, that's what I think.”