Her shepherdess hat she had discarded and instead had tied a blue chiffon scarf around her hair.
Nevertheless, in spite of her frivolous and charming costume, Gerry Williams' expression was entirely serious.
"No, of course you do not understand. I am sorry," Felipe apologized. "You see, it has been such a horrible evening for me with all the foolishness of the play and my acting a clown's part, when I have been wishing every minute to get you away and tell you what has happened."
"But what has happened?" Gerry inquired anxiously and yet with patience.
"The exemption board has refused my claim. I only heard the pleasant news late this afternoon," Felipe answered.
Gerry's first sensation was one of intense personal sympathy.
Simply and naturally she slipped her hand inside Felipe's.
"I don't know what to say to you. I am so grieved for you. It is too dreadful, your being forced to join the army when you so hate the whole idea. Can't something more be done? Surely you and your father must have influence out here!"
Felipe shook his head. "Influence does not count; besides, if father has any influence he would not use it in my behalf, not in this connection. When I told him this afternoon what had occurred he merely said: 'I wish you had done your duty in the beginning, my son, without bringing the stigma of disgrace upon our name by trying to escape your responsibility. I did not suppose your claim for exemption would be considered, as your excuse was too flimsy.'"
For an instant Gerry hesitated, then she said, her voice shaking. "I do not mean to be rude, but I can not understand your father. You are his only son and are no relation to me, and yet it does not seem to me I can bear your going over to France, where you will be so unhappy, where you may be wounded. But I must not talk of these things. How soon must you begin your training, Felipe, and do you think you will be in a camp near your home?"