She knew a dismissal when she heard one. A good thing, too, for Blythe did not know that she could, in her present state, continue carrying on any sort of conversation. How she yearned to have the confidence to truly speak her mind! But alas, that was not a gift that God had seen fit to bless her with.

"Of course, Aunt," she demurred, doing her best to appear grateful—and failing entirely— as she rose to her feet to go. The war, she suspected, was already lost: there would not be another battle, not on this matter.