But don't YOU go down there.

You let Thomas handle that part.

You're like one of my own boys.

I can't let you go!" He looked down at her commiseratingly.

"I've got to go, Mother Hart.
I've made my war-talk." He hesitated, bent his head, and kissed her on the forehead as she stood looking up at him, and went on.
"Grant--GRANT!" she cried heartbrokenly after him, and sank down on the porch-steps with her face hidden in her arms.
Miss Georgie was standing beside the gate, looking toward the stable.
She may not have been waiting for him, but she turned without any show of surprise when he walked up behind her.
"Well, your jumpers seem to have taken the hint," she informed him, with a sort of surface cheerfulness.