It might have been better for Barbara had she shared these amusements. But after inviting her three or four times, finding that she always refused, the others made no further efforts to persuade her. For they seemed to be extremely content to be three, in spite of the old adage.
Indeed, Mildred cherished the unexpressed hope that Dick might be falling in love with Nona. So whenever it was possible she used to leave the two of them together. But she was wise enough never to have made this conspicuous. Neither had she intimated any such idea either to her friend or brother.
But it was fairly simple to find one self interested in a picture at one end of a gallery when her two companions were strolling in the opposite direction. Also one could grow suddenly weary just as the others had expressed the desire to investigate some remote picture or scene.
Certainly it is not usual for a devoted sister to wish her only brother to marry. But then, Mildred Thornton was an exceptional girl. Selfishness had never been one of her characteristics, and, moreover, she was deeply devoted to Nona. Besides this, she felt that the best possible thing that could happen to Dick was to marry an attractive girl. For ever since the loss of the use of his arm Mildred had feared that he might become morose and unhappy. Indeed, he had seemed both of these things during their stay in Paris. It was only since coming into Brussels that he had regained a portion of his old debonair spirit. So naturally Mildred believed Nona to have been largely responsible for this.
There were few people in their senses who would have cared at the present time to dispute Nona Davis' charm and beauty. She had always been a pretty girl, but the past year in Europe had given her a delicate loveliness that made persons stop to gaze at her as she passed them on the street. A great deal of her former shyness had passed away. In spite of the hard work and the sight of so much undeserved suffering, she had grown stronger physically.
For before coming to Europe Nona had led too shut-in and conservative a life. She had almost no friends of her own age and her poverty was not a pretence like Eugenia's, but a very certain and to her a very distasteful thing.
Nona wanted to see the world and to occupy an important place in it. In spite of her real talent for her work and her unusual courage under danger, she had no thought of being a hospital nurse all her life.
Nona's father was an old man at her birth. He had once belonged to a family of wealth and prominence. But after the civil war had destroyed his fortune he had made little effort to rise superior to circumstances. Yet he had spent a great many hours talking to Nona about the true position which she should occupy and telling her long stories of her family's past.
Charleston, South Carolina, is one of the most beautiful and at the same time one of the most old-fashioned cities in the world. The tide of the new American life and spirit has in a measure swept past it. At least the new Americanism had never entered the doors of Nona's home during her father's lifetime.
The old gentleman would have perished had he dreamed of his daughter's becoming a trained nurse. However, after his death Nona had felt a strong impulse toward the profession and so far had never regretted the step.