“Oh, their lines are more than five miles away. Those are our guns that sound so close,” said Major Greyson reassuringly. He glanced over Lucy’s shoulder as he spoke, and gave a nod of satisfaction. “Good for you, Miss Pearse,” he said. “That’s just exactly what she needs. Here’s your breakfast and luncheon, Lucy, rolled into one.”
A young Red Cross nurse, with brown hair curling beneath her veil, and lips that smiled a pleasant welcome at the little newcomer, came quickly up with a full tray, which she set down upon the bench.
“Miss Pearse, here is Miss Lucy Gordon,” said Major Greyson, nodding in Lucy’s direction. “Miss Pearse has promised to take a little bit of care of you, Lucy, if you’re not too big now to be taken care of.”
“Indeed I’m not,” Lucy protested, rising to hold out a friendly, grateful hand, which the young nurse took warmly, saying:
“Perhaps you won’t think I’m taking much care of you when you see what I’ve brought, Miss Gordon. It isn’t even a lunch, but we’re rather hard up here.”
“Oh, I’m not particular,” smiled Lucy, thinking back a day to tea at Highland House, and to what she had thought hardship then. Now, she suddenly discovered that she was dying of hunger, at sight of the eggs and bread and the cup of chocolate on the little tray, when Miss Pearse uncovered the dishes.
“Sit down and eat it all,” urged Major Greyson. “Your father is asleep and, anyway, I’m going back to him.”
Lucy needed no more urging, and taking the tray upon her knees she ate the little meal with keen enjoyment, and a great feeling of returning strength in both mind and body.
“That’s better,” remarked Miss Pearse ten minutes later, when some of the healthy color had stolen back into Lucy’s pale cheeks. “Now you don’t look like a ghost any more. Here’s your cousin coming to find you.”
She pointed to the doorway from which Mr. Leslie was just coming out, and picked up the tray of empty dishes, saying, “I’ll take these and go back, for you won’t be alone now.”