But I am very anxious for you to write to Mr.Broussard for me and tell him that my husband is missing and will soon be posted as a deserter; that I don't know where he is, but I am sure he will return.

Don't tell Mr.
Broussard how ill I am, but just say that the Colonel has let me stay on here, and the boy is well.

Mr.Broussard is my husband's best friend; they were playmates in boyhood." A dead silence fell between the woman and the girl and lasted for some minutes.

Anita was already composing the letter in her mind.
"Perhaps before I go I can do something else for you," she said presently.
"No, everything has been done for me, and Mrs.McGillicuddy brings the boy over every night to tell me good-night.

What you can do for me is to write the letter, as I asked you, and post it to-night.