There was $107 in the house that night, but no one was
down-hearted.
"You could do worse, dear heart, than to marry one of us care-free
Americans," whispered Barnes to the girl who clung to his arm so
tightly as they entered the wings in the wake of the bride and groom.
And she said something in reply that brought a flush of mortification
to his cheek.
"Oh, it would be wonderful to marry a man who will never have to go to
war. A brave man who will not have to be a soldier."
The unintentional reflection on the fighting integrity of his country
struck a raw spot in Barnes's pride. He knew what all Europe was
saying about the pussy-willow attitude of the United States, and he
squirmed inwardly despite the tribute she tendered him as an
individual. He was not a "peace at any price" citizen.
He gave the wedding breakfast at one o'clock that night.
Three days later he and "Miss Jones" said farewell to the strollers
and boarded a day train for New York City. They left the company in a
condition of prosperity. The show was averaging two hundred dollars
nightly, and Mr. Rushcroft was already booking return engagements for
the early fall. He was looking forward to a tour of Europe at the
close of the war.
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