So she sat at lunch time even shyer and more speechless than usual, and let the ball of conversation persistently drop.
"Fretting for her brother, I suppose," thought Miss Beach.

"She can talk fast enough with friends of her own age.

Well, I suppose an old body like myself mustn't expect to be company for a girl of fifteen!" She was too proud to let the hurt feeling show itself on her face, however, and propping up the newspaper beside her plate, she plunged into the latest accounts from the Front..