He had, of course, been removed to the Sacred Heart Hospital as soon as possible in order that his sister Mildred might be near him. But both Mildred and Barbara helped with the nursing.
It was considered wiser by the hospital authorities that Barbara should not return immediately to her work with the Red Cross ambulance at the front. She was more shaken by her experience than she herself realized, or at least so her appearance suggested. No one, not even Mildred Thornton, dreamed that a part of her pallor might be due to anxiety for Dick. Nevertheless, Barbara went about her work at the hospital looking spent and exhausted, yet she no longer flinched at anything she was called upon to do. The greater tragedies she had lately seen had taught her more self-control.
Just at first Barbara was not aware of the change in the attitude of the hospital staff toward her after her rescue of Dick Thornton. It had seemed such a natural action to her she had not given it any thought.
But Nona Davis had not seen it in the same light, nor had Dr. Milton nor the other nurses and physicians near the battlefield.
Everywhere there was talk of the valor and common sense of the young American girl. Whether or not it was true, she was given the credit for having saved Dick’s life. Had he remained unprotected a stray shot must have done for him.
Mildred made no effort to conceal her gratitude and affection for Barbara, and even Lady Dorothy Mathers and Daisy Redmond, the two English girls who at first had small faith in Barbara’s ability, were now generously kind to her. Actually Lady Dorothy apologized for having previously slighted her, while Alexina McIntyre gathered Barbara into her capable arms.
“You’re a wee thing, there is no denying it, but I’ve always believed you had grit and now you have proved it.”
So in course of time Barbara grew happier and stronger, though not, as it turned out, until Dick was out of danger. The wound on his face healed rapidly enough, but the trouble had been with his splintered shoulder. He would hardly be useful at the front for some time to come.
Nevertheless, though Barbara remained behind for the regular staff nursing, Nona Davis continued in the ambulance service. The suggestion was made that she be relieved by one of the other nurses, but Nona preferred to make no change. For some reason she seemed peculiarly fitted for the work at the front. It required a coolness and obedience to orders that she was able to give. Her lack of long training did not count so seriously against her, since she was always under a surgeon’s orders. Moreover, her courage and devotion never appeared to falter.
Often when she returned to the hospital at night Eugenia Peabody would look at her in amazement. Could Nona be made of flesh and blood? She seemed so slender and fragile and yet was like fine steel. The truth was that all her life Nona had been accustomed to taking care of some one, so that she thought far less of herself and her own sensations than other girls of her age. Moreover, back of her stretched a long line of cavalier ancestors, who have a peculiar quality of endurance under conditions of war, whatever their weakness in times of peace.