"Your mother is at home. She has some visitors down-stairs. But I want to talk to you a few minutes, if you've no objections."
"Not a bit," said Lucy, rather mystified, as she drew forward a chair for Mr. Leslie and sank down herself on her little sofa.
Mr. Leslie's checks were still ruddy from the cold air, and he rubbed his hands together a second before he began, with a quick glance at Lucy's wondering face:
"When I tried to tell you the other day how grateful I felt for what you have done for Marian you changed the subject as soon as possible. I didn't blame you," he added with a sudden smile. "It isn't much fun being thanked. You'd rather I'd feel it and keep it to myself."
"Oh—honestly, I didn't do much," stammered Lucy, blushing and acutely uncomfortable. She liked to be appreciated as much as any one, but this was going rather far.
"You did just this," Mr. Leslie persisted. "You brought back Marian's health—the one thing in the world I wanted that I hadn't it in my power to get." The keen, blue eyes were shining as he looked intently into Lucy's shy and troubled face. "Whatever you say, Lucy, you have done me a service that I can never forget as long as I live, and gratitude would be an empty boast if I didn't want to do you a favor in return. I know there is only one thing in the world you want just now." Lucy looked at him, startled beyond all embarrassment, as he went on, "I can't tell whether that thing is within my power to give you—I won't know for many long days—but I am going to do my best. I have good friends in Switzerland, at our Embassy at Berne. I am going to cross this week and see what they can do toward having Bob exchanged."
Lucy sprang from the sofa to kneel by Mr. Leslie's chair and look into his face. "Oh, Cousin Henry—do you m-mean it?" she faltered, her throat painfully choking and her sight dimmed by the tears that filled and overflowed her eyes.
"It isn't likely I'd say it if I didn't," responded Mr. Leslie's big reassuring voice, as he patted his little cousin's shoulder with a tender hand. "I don't say I shall succeed, Lucy—but I'm going to try."
"But what will you do, Cousin Henry? What can you do, if the Germans don't want to let him go?" cried Lucy, the sudden radiance of her hope dying down at thought of the real obstacles in the way of Bob's release. She dashed the tears from her eyes to look eagerly into Mr. Leslie's face for signs of confidence in his undertaking.
His face, though, was more determined than confident as he answered, "It isn't exactly a favor we shall ask of Germany. Exchanges are of mutual benefit, for in Bob's place a German prisoner, whom some one over there is anxious to see released, will be restored to his friends. This is done all the time, as you know, but it is subject, of course, to certain conditions." The principal one of the conditions he had in mind was that the prisoner to be exchanged must be badly wounded, but he did not mention this just then. Mr. Leslie was not so foolishly optimistic as to be blind to the difficulties in his way, but he considered a reasonable hope as ground enough on which to proceed.