BOOKS BY MARY R. S. ANDREWS
Published by CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
| The Eternal Feminine. Illustrated | net | $1.50 |
| August First | net | $1.00 |
| The Eternal Masculine. Illustrated | net | $1.50 |
| The Militants. Illustrated | net | $1.50 |
| Bob and the Guides. Illustrated | net | $1.50 |
| Her Country | net | .50 |
| Old Glory | net | .50 |
| The Counsel Assigned | net | .50 |
| The Courage of the Commonplace | net | .50 |
| The Lifted Bandage | net | .50 |
| The Perfect Tribute | net | .50 |
HER COUNTRY
BY
Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews
NEW YORK
Charles Scribner’s Sons
1918
Copyright, 1918, by Charles Scribner’s Sons
Copyright, 1918, by the Butterick Publishing Co.
Published May, 1918
[Pg 1]
HER COUNTRY
Out on the edge of the city werelarge places, screened from theroad by hedges which hadbeen fifty, a hundred years sometimes,in the growing. Behind onesuch lay a sunshiny garden, lovelyin the June Sunday morning. Downthe gravel of a path a girl in a whitefrock walked, swinging a shallowbasket in which scissors rattled fromside to side. The girl kept a criticaleye, walking, on the wall of DorothyPerkins roses which, growing over atall broken lattice, separated the gardenfrom the grounds next door.
“You adorable nobodies, you’re likepink music,” she addressed the million[Pg 2]little blooms, and halted, erectand poised, glorying in flowers andsunlight.
Two men watched her. “A colt,”spoke the older, smiling lazily.
“I don’t know. I like long, adolescentlines. You don’t see them aftereighteen. Honor’s seventeen. I likeher figure.”
“Figure! As much figure as astring.” The older man leaned backin his wicker chair and gazed throughhalf-closed lids at the girl, much likea tall, thin angel of Botticelli, shimmeringwhite against shimmeringpink.
With that she turned and camelightly towards them across the grass.“What do you think? Is there anythinghere fit to send McIvor?”
“Why it’s all lovely, Honor—our[Pg 3]rose-garden,” the boy said, lookingat her in surprise. “Fit to send him!Why, the Mannering rose-garden’sfamous. Has been for a hundredyears—isn’t it a hundred years,father?”
“Near enough.” Eric Mannering,the fift