Mary, thousands of miles away, hearts beat with hope and fear
over the varying dispatches from day to day.
"A few months ago," said Miss Oliver, "we thought and talked in terms of
Glen St. Mary. Now, we think and talk in terms of military tactics and
diplomatic intrigue."
There was just one great event every day--the coming of the mail. Even
Susan admitted that from the time the mail-courier's buggy rumbled over
the little bridge between the station and the village until the papers
were brought home and read, she could not work properly.
"I must take up my knitting then and knit hard till the papers come,
Mrs. Dr. dear. Knitting is something you can do, even when your heart is
going like a trip-hammer and the pit of your stomach feels all gone and
your thoughts are catawampus. Then when I see the headlines, be they
good or be they bad, I calm down and am able to go about my business
again. It is an unfortunate thing that the mail comes in just when our
dinner rush is on, and I think the Government could arrange things
better. But the drive on Calais has failed, as I felt perfectly sure it
would, and the Kaiser will not eat his Christmas dinner in London this
year. Do you know, Mrs. Dr. dear,"--Susan's voice lowered as a token
that she was going to impart a very shocking piece of information,--"I
have been told on good authority--or else you may be sure I would not
be repeating it when it concerns a minster--that the Rev.
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