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However, it did not for an instant occur to Stacey to question the justice of his father’s argument. It seemed to him the only considerable argument against his going to war, and he again respectfully recognized his father’s ability to go straight to the essential point.

“But you see, sir,” he said, “that, true as your contention is for the world as it was—and isn’t, it doesn’t hold good now. For it would be equally true if America were in the war, yet then you would, as you said, be the first to want me to go.”

“But—”

“I know. America isn’t in the war—yet; but every single trivial example like mine will help, just a little, to bring her in.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What about me, Stacey?” Mr. Carroll asked at last.

The young man gazed at his father sadly. “I know,” he said. “It’s horrible. But all over the world it’s going on. The same question’s being asked—and set aside—in thousands and thousands of families. And—though it isn’t adequate compensation—you still at least have your work; which is more than wives and mothers have.”