"Oh, I wish I might hear about them! I'll ask Captain Brent," exclaimed Lucy, eagerly.
"That's what I get for staying at home," remarked Marian, who was sitting beside Mrs. Gordon's sewing-table, absently twisting a curl about her finger. "Of course you had to have an adventure, Lucy, when I wasn't there. Interesting things always seem to happen on the coldest days."
"It was my fault this time," said Mrs. Gordon. "I didn't want you to go out again in the cold." She looked at Marian's pretty, regretful face with a smile that had behind it a clear, searching glance. She had feared that Mr. Leslie's departure might prove a trying disappointment, and lead Marian to mope again, but though it was evident that she missed her father, and that he was constantly in her thoughts, Marian's health was now too firmly re-established to suffer seriously. Her father's delight, too, at the change in her, was enough to keep up her interest in her own improvement. Mrs. Gordon looked with satisfaction at the worn skirt of Marian's serge dress, where she had knelt on William's sled, and had crawled over the floor while following Miss Thomas' directions in regard to escaping from a burning house. Her dresses never had known such marks before, but had been given away as good as new at the end of the season. Mrs. Gordon welcomed, in Marian's case, a few of the tears and worn places with which her own children furnished her almost too plentifully.
"I'm going to change it in a minute, Cousin Sally," said Marian, following Mrs. Gordon's glance to her knees. "But I think I'll go and write to Father first; though, from what he said about his address," she added doubtfully, "it's about as definite as writing to Santa Claus."
"Not quite so bad as that," said Mrs. Gordon, smiling, "because he'll get your letters—sooner or later." She was serious again before she finished speaking, and Lucy, guessing her thoughts, knew that she was longing for the day when word from Bob should come, and messages from home could at least reach his prison.
Unable to offer any encouragement worth hearing, Lucy rose from the floor with a smothered sigh, saying, "I need to dress, too. Come on, Marian. That pesky hair of yours looks just as nice as it did at breakfast."
In the evening, to Lucy's delight, Captain Brent came to call, anxious to hear about the progress of Mr. Leslie's journey in Bob's behalf. Lucy could scarcely wait for a chance to ask him about Captain Jourdin.
When the opportunity came she demanded, breathlessly, "Was he badly wounded? Did he do wonderful things first, Captain Brent? Was he ever taken prisoner?"
"One at a time, Captain Lucy," said the officer, laughing. "I know why you're so interested, though. He told me about the excellent treatment his sprained wrist received as soon as the beastly machine came down. I asked who tied it up for him, as he evidently couldn't have done it alone, and he said he had no idea American girls were so accomplished."
"But what did the doctor say who saw the bandage?" inquired Major Gordon, amused.