CHAPTER XXVIII

And now war again,—war, spreading its fear and heartaches like the circling ripples of a wave to the most remote farms beyond the tiniest village. And in the old farmhouse behind the cedars Abbie had said good-by to young Dr. Fred Baker and Stanley Deal, her two oldest grandsons, looking big and fine in their khaki. “You know, Grandma, from the time Germany ran over little Belgium, . . .” “You wouldn’t want us to stand by and let a bully . . .” Yes, yes, the words came back,—the same words,—the same spirit. How the…