"I wish it would hurry, then," Lucy murmured, getting up from her seat on William's bed. "I'm thankful for what we've heard, but if only we weren't so far away. The Belgians haven't an ocean between them and Germany. It is only as if their brothers were taken prisoners into Connecticut—supposing they lived in New York."
"Yes, but the Germans they have there on top of them," said Marie quickly. "They would be very glad to have that ocean."
As never before Lucy realized how much of the war's meaning Marie knew. She felt that the quiet Belgian girl could tell her more of Bob's captors than could many about her, but somehow she was not eager to ask questions. She knew that Marie would have told her all that was pleasant to hear without asking.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Marian, who came to the door with her tam-o'-shanter on, and her coat half buttoned.
"Aren't you coming out a little while, Lucy? Let's go over to the Houstons'. I need my exercise," she added, with a mischievous curve to her lips, as she recalled Lucy's often repeated words of persuasion during the past months.
"I'm glad you really think so," said Lucy, smiling. "Because you're getting to be more than I can manage. You're not the sweet little delicate thing you were."
As she went into her own room for her hat and coat, Lucy could not help echoing her own words with a faint glow of satisfaction. She had never admitted to her mother, though Mrs. Gordon's keen eyes guessed it, how very hard she had often found it to stick to her resolution in Marian's behalf. All during the autumn she had steadfastly cut short the things she and Julia liked best to do in favor of the things Marian could be persuaded to take part in. She had spent all her playtime with her cousin, helping her to feel at home with other girls and to learn independence, with no other reward for her patience than the knowledge that the work she had wanted was here for the asking, and as hard and discouraging as she could wish. The satisfaction of seeing Marian daily grow stronger, gayer and more companionable had not come until lately, but it was no less a very real one, and Lucy longed now to tell her mother how glad she felt to have accepted the unwelcome task. In the past weeks Marian had begun generously to return her cousin's kindness and Lucy would never look back at those dark days without a warm remembrance of Marian's never-failing sympathy.
"I'm ready," she called, after a moment. Marian answered from down-stairs, and Lucy following her, the two girls went outdoors and crossed the snow to the Houstons'.
Julia's mother had already heard the story of the letter, but both she and Julia wanted to hear it again. Nothing else was talked of while Lucy and Marian stayed, and as little else was in Lucy's mind, she was very willing to talk about it with these old friends.
"Don't you wish you could thank that dear old Elizabeth?" cried Julia with shining eyes. "Marian, do you remember saying that she and Karl were dangerous to have around? Here they've done the Gordons the best turn in the world."