"For all eternity."

The winter of 1916-17 will always be a memorable one in America. The awful reports of the war in the Old World filled the New World with constant fear that we, too, would be dragged into it in spite of all overtures for Peace by President Wilson.

This public interest together with her activities in religious work brought Venna completely out of her solitude, and made her once more happy and ambitious. She opened her home to the young Mormon missionaries and never was there a time when two or three were not staying with her. So heartily did she embrace the Mormon faith, that it soon seemed as though it had always been hers, and her new friends seemed nearer to her than the old ones. Most of her society friends dropped her entirely, but Venna had no time for them now, so she did not miss their attention.

It hurt Venna to see her aunt's continual attitude of despair for her lost condition. She and Dr. Hansom were still Venna's friends, but their relations were strained and they seldom stayed long in one another's company. All Venna's efforts to discuss with them failed.

Summer came again, but Venna entertained no thoughts of the country. Both her time and her money were too much needed in the city. She had become quite expert in Red Cross work and enjoyed it more than anything else.

It was one week after America had declared war. Venna was reading the papers with intense interest when Brother Hallock called.

She had come to look for his frequent calls as a necessity. At last love had come into her life and Brother Hallock was her greatest joy. Together they constantly planned for the Church and Red Cross work.

"So it has come at last!" said Venna seriously.

"Yes, at last! America has tried to keep out of it; but we, too, must bear our share of the world's burden. I intend to do my part. Venna, I have news for you. I'm released."

"From what?"

"From my mission. I can go back West anytime now."

"You will go West?" she asked with a sudden fear of losing him.

"Very soon, yes; I feel as though I don't want to waste time. I'm going home to work off some of the debt incurred by my mission and then I shall volunteer."

Both stood silent for a few moments, looking into one another's eyes with a realization of a future of sacrifice.

"How can I possibly spare you?" she asked, laying her hand gently upon his arm.

Her touch thrilled him.

"Don't you think it will be hard for me?" he said, with emotion.

She stood thoughtful for a moment. She felt his great love for her, but then it was not permitted for him to speak of it. She would not tempt him to break mission rules.

She looked up smiling.

"When do you expect to go?"

"Next week," he answered, smiling his appreciation of her effort.

"You will write to me, of course?"

"Directly I arrive!" came promptly. "And you?"

"I won't tell you now what I intend doing. You might not approve," she replied, laughing.

"What new idea now?" he asked, looking curiously at her flushed, eager countenance.

"You must not know until you volunteer. So let me know when you go to France, won't you?"

So Brother Hallock left for the West the following week, wondering what surprise Venna had planned.

Everything seemed changed to Venna, after his departure.

The cold indifference of her society friends seemed to turn into a constant stinging rebuke. Many of her Mormon associates were only visitors in the East for the winter. She had grown fond of them all, and as one by one left for the West, she longed to go, too. Walter wrote as he had promised, but his letter was so disappointing, it was almost impossible for her to be her own smiling self.

How she had longed for that first letter! How she had watched the mails! Surely when he had returned home and had been honorably released, he would write of his love for her! These were her expectations, her longings.

Was it all a mistake after all? Had she only imagined he loved her?

This was the first letter from the man she loved—a kind, friendly letter, which her trembling hands had opened to her own chagrin.

"Salt Lake City.

"Dear Sister Venna:

"I meant to write to you sooner, but have been rushed here and there on business and social calls at such a rate, I have scarcely had time to eat. My dear sister, you can't conceive how strange an experience it is to come home from a mission. Everyone makes a great deal more of you than you deserve and mothers—well, if every mother acted like my mother did (I expect they all do), the boys must all feel fine about their small sacrifices. Mother follows me from room to room, and whenever I'm at home she tries her best to make me realize I'm just the grandest son in Christendom, so do my sisters. The girls and mother vie with one another to excel in their goodness to me. If I were not well dosed with the scorn and abuse of the East, I'm afraid this wonderful home adoration would unbalance me, and deprive me of my humility.

"It seems mighty good to be in dear old Salt Lake again; but it is so strange, Venna, how all my former companions seem changed to me. Of course, I know it is I who have changed the most. I have grown away from them in many ways. I find myself criticising many little things in their lives that I never noticed before I left for the East. I find myself correcting them, and they laughingly tell me I have gotten the 'preaching habit' and must come down to earth a little.

"Yes, there's no doubt a missionary's life takes one beyond himself, as it were. I wish all the boys had the privilege of living in the mission field for two years. I believe every one of them would lose the desire for small follies.

"Give my love to all the saints and especially to dear Sister Maddon.

"Write to me soon and tell me all the 'doings' of the Mission. God bless you in your wonderful devotion.

"Your brother in the Gospel,

"Walter Hallock."

"What a cool, ordinary letter!" thought Venna as she re-read his letter for the twentieth time.

She was dressing to go out for a ride with Mrs. Maddon who had phoned to her in the morning asking her to take a few hours from her duties to ride out into the country, and "we will have a good old chat," she had added.

Dear Mrs. Maddon! How Venna loved this cheerful friend. In spite of herself, Venna always brightened in her company. Yes, an afternoon with her would be refreshing.

As the bell announced her coming Venna quickly folded Walter's letter and tucked it away in her waist. In true womanly fashion, she carried that first letter always with her.

Soon the two women were comfortably settled and whizzing through the hot city streets to the cool, green country without. Venna was at the wheel. She seldom had a chauffeur now, much to the disgust of her aunt and Dr. Hansom. She tried to explain that she wished to be in good practice—some day she would drive in France—but this was listened to with a smile.

Once out on almost deserted country roads, Venna slackened speed, and the two friends gazed out upon the passing panorama of sunlit fields and dark, cool woodlands with evident satisfaction.

"How I envy Anna Halloway!" exclaimed Venna suddenly. "Did you know I received a letter from her lately? As soon as they reached the West, they looked around for real country life high up in the mountains. You know both Anna and her husband hate city life. They found a place called 'Ephraim,' and they've bought a home there. Anna says she looks at the mountains and feels nearer heaven already. She's so happy to have such a place to bring up her babe in. I'm glad for her, but I miss her so!"

"Is she the only one you miss?" asked Sister Maddon, laughing. "And is she the only one you have heard from lately?"

Venna blushed and gave the machine a little spurt.

"Oh, no," she returned, trying to look indifferent. "I meant to tell you I heard from Walter about a week ago. He wishes me to give you his love. Here is his letter. Won't you read it?"

Sister Maddon read and then handed the letter back to Venna.

"Good as no letter at all—don't you think so?" she questioned Venna, smiling.

The machine received another spurt, as Venna determined to conceal her hurt.

"Why, no," she answered calmly, "it was very kind of him to write at all when he is so busy."

Mrs. Maddon laughed one of her joyous little ripples.

"Now, look here, Venna dear, I didn't persuade you to come out to-day just because your health needed it. It isn't only much needed fresh air that has paled you lately. You mustn't mind a mother like me getting interested in your great love for Walter, and his great love for you. You don't mind me speaking frankly, dear?"

Venna turned to her friend impulsively.

"I couldn't mind anything from you, Sister Maddon, but you've guessed wrong this time. That letter ought to prove it to you."

"It proves nothing—except that Walter won't propose to a rich girl when he is without a cent and must soon go to war."

"How do you know that?" exclaimed Venna, her large eyes scanning her friend's face eagerly.

"Because he told me so!" came with another joyous ripple.

"You don't mean"—

"Yes, I do mean that your place is out West as soon as you can get there. We'll miss you here, but your place is with that good boy of ours as long as he is here. Don't lose time. He may be in France soon. He'll never propose to you, you'll have to show him how!"

Venna brought the car to a sudden standstill. The road was empty. She buried her face on Mother Maddon's shoulder and sobbed for joy. The mother's heart was touched.

"Tears of joy, aren't they, dear?" she said, patting the curls lovingly. "Just think how he feels, away out West. We mustn't lose any time."

—

Two weeks later Venna and Walter stood smiling into one another's eyes with the rapture of a great love.

Suddenly Walter's eyes clouded. "Even if I had not volunteered, Venna, I would have nothing to offer you until I had proved myself, but this war—God knows when it will end, and then every man has to start life again, perhaps blind or crippled."

As he spoke, Venna trembled with a fearful premonition of the world's future sorrows, but when he finished, she looked her love into his soul, smiling bravely.

"How better can a woman show her love than when a man needs her most? You know a Mormon girl marries for eternity, not just for the few years of this life—and if you come back from the war afflicted, who could better care for you than I? As for money, I've been thinking a great deal about my wealth to-day. It seems wicked to be rich, when so many are starving. I shall keep a very little for the future. The rest of my wealth I'll give to the Belgians and French. So you see, Walter, neither of us will have money after the war. With so great a love in our hearts, should we think of material things?"

"I have determined to go to France also, Walter," she added, smiling.

"You go to France?" he asked, surprised.

"And why not? Should I not be as patriotic as you? Women are needed badly. I am quite a Red Cross nurse now, you know."

"Yes, you're right," he answered seriously. "But I had never thought of you going. What a world of sacrifice we are now living in!"

"Let us try to hold our heads high and smile at adversity," she replied, smiling back at him.

"For God and America!" he added, taking her tenderly in his arms. "O Venna," he said, passionately, "what have I done to deserve such a woman as you! For all eternity! How little the outside world realizes the inspiration of that word. Shall we go through the temple together, Venna? Shall we be married there before we go to Europe?"

"Yes, Walter—for all eternity!" she answered softly.