She had been gazing thoughtfully into the fire, which the April day made agreeable, and talking very little. Now she shook her head in protest.
“Oh, brothers aren’t altogether bad,” she smiled.
Barbara stammered.
“No, of course not; I didn’t mean that. You must both forgive me. You see, I have only a married sister who is years older than I am, and my father. I suppose I have gotten too used to saying whatever pops into my head. Perhaps the men in the west are more polite to girls than eastern men. I don’t know exactly why, but they are bigger, stronger men; they live outdoors and because their lives are sometimes rough they try to have their manners gentle. Oh, goodness, I have said something else impolite, haven’t I?” Barbara ended in such consternation that her host and hostess both laughed.
“Oh, don’t mind me; please go right ahead if it relieves your feelings,” Dick remarked so humorously that Barbara felt it might be difficult to dislike him intensely, however you might disapprove of him.
“Only,” he added, “don’t start shooting verbal fireworks at the poor wounded soldiers whom you are going to attempt to nurse. If a fellow is down and out they might prove fatal. I say, Mill, did you ever hear anything more absurd? Miss Meade has an idea that she is going over to nurse the British Tommies. She looks more like she needed a nurse herself—with a perambulator.”
“Yes, I know, Barbara has talked it all over with me,” Mildred replied. “We went together to the Red Cross headquarters today to see about arrangements, when she could cross and what luggage she should take with her. Four American girls are to go in a party and after they arrive in England they will be sent where they are most needed. You see, Barbara’s mother was an Irish woman, so she feels she is partly British; and then her father was a West Point man. She meant to make her living as a nurse anyhow, so why shouldn’t she be allowed to help in the war? I understand exactly how Barbara feels.”
Still gazing into the fire, Mildred’s face had grown paler and more determined. “You see, I am going with her. I offered my own services and was accepted this morning. We sail in ten days,” she concluded.
“You, Mildred? What utter tommy-rot!” Dick exclaimed inelegantly. “The mater is apt to lock you up in your room on a bread-and-water diet for ten days for even suggesting such a thing.” Then he ceased talking abruptly and pretended to be stifling a yawn. For, glancing up, he had discovered that his mother was unexpectedly standing in the doorway. She was dressed for dinner and looked very beautiful in a lavender satin gown, but the expression on her face was not cheering.
Evidently she had overheard Mildred’s confession and his sister was in for at least a bad quarter of an hour. Personally Dick hoped his own words had not betrayed her. For although he was a fairly useless, good-for-nothing character, he wasn’t a cad, and for some reason or other he particularly did not wish their visitor to consider him one.