"
However, seeing that he was going to tell my father, I
added:
"We shall probably not fly, as we have no machine. There
are Cavalry Regiments that have no horses, aren't there? But we
are but at the beginning of our Milatary existence, and no one
can tell what the next day may bring forth."
"Not with you, anyhow," he said in an angry tone, and was
very cold to me the rest of the dinner hour.
They talked about the war, but what a disapointment was
mine! I had returned from my Institution of Learning full of
ferver, and it was a bitter moment when I heard my father
observe that he felt he could be of more use to his Native Land
by making shells than by marching and carrying a gun, as he had
once had milk-leg and was never the same since.
"Of course," said my father, "Bab thinks I am a slacker.
But a shell is more valuable against the Germans than a milk
leg, anytime."
I at that moment looked up and saw William looking at my
father in a strange manner. To those who were not on the alert
it might have apeared that he was trying not to smile, my father
having a way of indulging in "quips and cranks and wanton wiles"
at the table which mother does not like, as our Butlers are apt
to listen to him and not fill the glasses and so on.
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