CHAPTER XIV
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM
America still remained distant and longed for, yet, to Lucy, England held a little of the spell of peace and homeland when Janet and Alan Leslie welcomed her back to Highland House.
She had not felt it so at Dover, nor in London’s crowded streets, where uniforms were common as before the armistice and a sort of uneasy restlessness persisted, as though these months before the opening of the Conference did not yet inspire full confidence that peace had come. But once in Surrey, among the glories of an English country springtime, Lucy felt her heart almost overflow with grateful happiness, and she could hardly talk to Janet at all to tell her how glad she was to be back with her at last.
Half of Lucy’s happiness was to watch Michelle, who seemed to change hourly with Europe left behind. The girl Lucy presented to Janet was hardly the same Michelle who through four long years had defied the Germans to wear out her heroic hope and courage. She was almost a child again—a child laughing with delight at the beauties of green leaves and apple orchards, and at seeing the young, happy faces of Lucy’s cousins according her such generous, friendly welcome.
Alan tried to put all his enthusiasm into words, and only managed to make everyone laugh at his bursts of inquiry, exclamation and light-hearted cordiality.
“Spoof me all you like,” he offered, in too high spirits to be easily dashed. “Here I’ve been waiting ages, wondering if you were really coming to tell me all the news of dear old Badheim——”
“Alan!” Janet protested.
“Well, I had rather larks there, you know. Can’t help liking the place. I want to hear it all from beginning to end—all about Franz and Herr Johann——I’m most awfully glad you came, Miss Michelle,” he broke off to say. “I was jolly afraid you’d go back on us.”
“Will you let me speak, Alan?” Janet demanded. “Lucy, when are your father and mother coming?”