Never except when she was outdoors could Charlotta endure being alone.
For the first time since her accident the little countess was almost completely dressed in a brown costume which Bianca had with great difficulty adjusted over her injured arm.
Walking to her door Charlotta opened it, glancing out into the wide hall.
If she had thought to mention it to Mrs. Clark, she would surely have gained permission to wander over this floor of her mother's former home. As a matter of fact, she had not been inside the place for a number of years, as the property she had inherited from her mother was in the hands of a business agent.
Stepping out into the wide hall Charlotta started toward the front window which overlooked the grounds. In a moment, however, she saw that the space before the window was occupied by a wheeled chair and that an American officer was seated there letting the sunlight stream over him.
Undismayed Charlotta walked forward.
"You have been ill and are better, I am glad," she said simply.
She had a curious lack of self-consciousness and a friendliness which was very charming.
The young officer attempted to rise.
"Why, yes, I am better, thank you. I have been stupidly ill from an attack of influenza just as my men were on the march toward Germany and I should have given anything in the world to have been able to go along with them. However, I must not grumble. I am right again so you need not be afraid of me. We have been kept pretty well isolated from you. But won't you have this chair?"