Dick glanced carefully about, but the tram car was almost empty.
"Don't you understand what the ivy means?" he asked. "I expect it was pretty absurd of me. But the other day the German commandant ordered that no Belgian should wear his national colors. Indeed, they were not to be displayed anywhere. Well, the result is, that almost everybody one meets upon the street has been wearing a leaf of ivy lately."
Dick took the ivy spray from his coat and handed it to his companion.
"Do you know what ivy stands for?" he asked. "It means attachment, faithful unto death. Won't you wear this?"
But although Barbara took the shaded, dark green leaf into her hand and looked at it for a moment, she slowly shook her head.
"There is something charming and pathetic in the idea, Dick. Remember to tell the story to Mildred and Nona. And give the ivy to Nona; I am sure she would love to have it," Barbara finished, as she gave the leaf back to her companion.
CHAPTER VII A Triangle
A curious division had developed between the four American Red Cross girls since their arrival in Belgium. Perhaps this was due to the arrangement of their work, perhaps to spiritual conditions which are not always easy to see or define.