“Zelotes says he thinks it's the right thing for you to do, Albert,” she said, “so I suppose I ought to think so, too. But, oh, my dear, DO you really feel that you must? I--it don't seem as I could bear to . . . but there, I mustn't talk so. It ain't a mite harder for me than it is for thousands of women all over this world. . . . And perhaps the government folks won't take you, anyway. Rachel said she read in the Item about some young man over in Bayport who was rejected because he had fat feet. She meant flat feet, I suppose, poor thing. Oh, dear me, I'm laughin', and it seems wicked to laugh a time like this. And when I think of you goin', Albert, I--I . . . but there, I promised Zelotes I wouldn't. . . . And they MAY not take you. . . . But oh, of course they will, of course they will! . . . I'm goin' to make you a chicken pie for dinner to-day; I know how you like it. . . . If only they MIGHT reject you! . . . But there, I said I wouldn't and I won't.”
Rachel Ellis's opinion on the subject and her way of expressing that opinion were distinctly her own. Albert arose early in the morning following the announcement of his decision to enter the service. He had not slept well; his mind was too busy with problems and speculations to resign itself to sleep. He had tossed about until dawn and had then risen and sat down at the table in his bedroom to write Madeline of the step he had determined to take. He had not written her while he was considering that step. He felt, somehow, that he alone with no pressure from without should make the decision. Now that it was made, and irrevocably made, she must of course be told. Telling her, however, was not an easy task. He was sure she would agree that he had done the right thing, the only thing, but--
“It is going to be very hard for you, dear,” he wrote, heedless of the fact that Mrs. Fosdick's censorious eye would see and condemn the “dear.” “It is going to be hard for both of us. But I am sure you will feel as I do that I COULDN'T do anything else. I am young and strong and fit and I am an American. I MUST go. You see it, don't you, Madeline. I can hardly wait until your letter comes telling me that you feel I did just the thing you would wish me to do.”