“If your dog were around now, he’d begin to howl,” said Larry. “Don’t look so dismal, Lucy. Why, we have all sorts of luck.”
“Oh, I know. I’m not dismal,” said Lucy, smiling at her own earnestness. “Only I hate to hear you talking as though the Germans weren’t really beaten. If the war commenced again I think I’d be the biggest coward on either side.”
“Don’t worry,” said Larry. “It will take more than Franz to recommence it.”
CHAPTER VII
ALAN TAKES A HAND
The convalescents went on improving until, at the end of another week, they were too active to be easily taken care of.
“You’d better look out, Bob, or they’ll be putting you back at work,” Larry said to Bob a few days before Alan’s departure.
“There’s something in that,” declared Bob thoughtfully.
“No, there isn’t,” said Lucy, “for our surgeon said his leg wasn’t strong yet. He can’t walk far. He mustn’t catch cold. He really isn’t well at all.”
Larry, Alan, Bob and General Gordon all laughed at this, for Bob’s hearty appetite and the warm color returning to his thin cheeks gave little cause for alarm. The conversation took place at dinner one Sunday in March, at General Gordon’s quarters in Coblenz. Elizabeth waited at table and gave, to Bob and Lucy, such a natural and homelike air to the meal that Bob could not resist telling her how glad he was to see her there.