The follies of patriotism!  This was the red flag of anarchy to him.  He started to speak, flushing angrily, but held his tongue and only emitted a “whew!” in good-humored wonder.

“I see you are not very frightened by my opposition,” she rejoined in a flash of amusement not wholly untempered by exasperation.

“We got the appropriation for an additional army corps this year,” he explained contentedly, his repose completely regained.

“Thus increasing the odds against us.  But perhaps not; for we are dealing with the children not with recruits, as I said.  We call ourselves the teachers of peace.  I organized the first class in La Tir.  I have the children come together every Sunday morning and I tell them about the children that live in other countries.  I tell them that a child a thousand miles away is just as much a neighbor as the one across the street.  At first I feared that they would find it uninteresting.  But if you know how to talk to them they don’t.”

“Naturally they don’t, when you talk to them,” he interrupted.

She was so intent that she passed over the compliment with a gesture like that of brushing away a cobweb.  Her eyes were like deep, clear wells of faith and repose.

“I try to make the children of other countries so interesting that our children will like them too well ever to want to kill them when they grow up.  We have a little peace prayer—­they have even come to like to recite it—­a prayer and an oath.  But I’ll not bother you with it.  Other women have taken up the idea.  I have found a girl who is going to start a class on your side in South La Tir, and I came here to meet some women who want to inaugurate the movement in your capital.”

“I’ll have to see about that!” he rejoined, half-banteringly, half-threateningly.

“There is something else to come, even more irritating,” she said, less intently and smiling.  “So please be prepared to hold your temper.”

“I shall not beat my fist on the table defending war as you did defending peace!” he retaliated with significant enjoyment.

But she used his retort for an opening.

“Oh, I’d rather you would do that than jest!  It’s human.  It’s going to war because one is angry.  You would go to war as a matter of cold reason.”

“If otherwise, I should lose,” he replied.

“Exactly.  You make it easy for me to approach my point.  I want to prevent you from losing!” she announced cheerfully yet very seriously.

“Yes?  Proceed.  I brace myself against an explosion of indignation!”

“It is the duty of a teacher of peace to use all her influence with the people she knows,” she went on.  “So I am going to ask you not to let your country ever go to war against mine while you are chief of staff.”

“Mine against yours?” he equivocated.  “Why, you live almost within gunshot of the line!  Your people have as much Gray as Brown blood in their veins, Your country! My country!  Isn’t that patriotism?”