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By Root 8862 0

look at the Rodins. After she'd looked at the Rodins she went to the Chinese wing. By the time she was ready to go down Fifth Avenue in the bus --she felt she'd been spending too much on taxis --she felt elated. Al the way downtown she kept remembering the Age of Bronze. When she made out J.W. in the stuffy pinkish light of the hotel lobby she went towards him with a springy step. His jaw was set and his blue eyes were on fire. He looked younger than last time she'd seen him. "Wel , it's come at last," he said. "I just wired Washington offering my services to the government. I'd like to see 'em try and pul a rail-road strike now.""It's wonderful and terrible," said Eleanor. "I'm trembling like a leaf." They went to a little table in the corner behind some heavy draperies to have tea. They had hardly sat down before the orchestra started playing The Star-Spangled Banner, and they had to get to their feet. There was great bustle in the hotel. People kept running about with fresh editions of the papers, laughing and talking loud. Per-fect strangers borrowed each other's newspapers, chatted about the war, lit cigarettes for each other.

"I have an idea, J.W.," Eleanor was saying, holding a piece of cinnamontoast poised in her pointed fingers,

"that if I went out and talked to your wife as one woman to another, she'd understand the situation better. When I was decorating the house she was so kind and we got along famously."

-357-"I have offered my services to Washington," said Ward.

"There may be a telegram at the office now. I'm sure that Gertrude wil see that it is her simple duty."

"I want to go, J.W.," said Eleanor. "I feel I must go."

"Where?"

"To France."

"Don't do anything hasty, Eleanor."

"No, I feel I must . . . I could be a very good nurse

. . . I'm not afraid of anything; you ought to know that, J.W."

The orchestra played The Star-Spangled Banner again; Eleanor sang some of the chorus in a shril little treble voice. They were too excited to sit stil long and went over to J.W.'s office in a taxi. The office was in great excitement. Miss Wil iams had had a flagpole put up in the center window and was just raising the flag on it. Eleanor went over to her and they shook hands warmly. The cold wind was rustling the papers on the desk and typewritten pages were sailing across the room but nobody paid any attention. Down Fifth Avenue a band was com-ing near playing Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here. Al along office windows were brightly lit, flags were slap-ping against their poles in the cold wind, clerks and stenographers were leaning out and cheering, dropping out papers that sailed and whirled in the bitter eddying wind.

"It's the Seventh Regiment," somebody said and they al clapped and yel ed. The band was clanging loud under the window. They could hear the tramp of the militia-men's feet. Al the automobiles in the stal ed traffic tooted their horns. People on the tops of the busses were waving smal flags. Miss Wil iams leaned over and kissed Eleanor on the cheek. J.W. stood by looking out over their heads with a proud smile on his face. After the band had gone and traffic was running again they put the window down and Miss Wil iams went

-358-around picking up and arranging loose papers. J.W. had a telegram from Washington accepting his services on the Public Information Committee that Mr. Wilson was gathering about him and said he'd leave in the morning. He cal ed up Great Neck and asked Gertrude if he could come out to dinner and bring a friend. Gertrude said he might and that she hoped she'd be able to stay up to see them. She was excited by the warnews but she said the thought of al that misery and slaughter gave her horrible pains in the back of the head.

"I have a hunch that if I take you out to dinner at Gertrude's everything wil be al right," he said to Eleanor. "I'm rarely wrong in my hunches."

"Oh, I know she'l understand," said Eleanor. As they were leaving the office they met Mr. Robbins in the hal . He didn't take his hat off or the cigar out of his mouth. He looked drunk. "What the hel is this,