It was Virtue Ann, Eugene’s nurse; and on seeing the sergeant, she threw up her head with a quick catching of her breath.
“Did I frighten you?” asked the sergeant.
“Oh, no, sir!” said Virtue Ann miserably.
“Then, what’s the matter with you?” he asked in a puzzled voice.
“It’s not you,” said Virtue Ann, bringing her handkerchief out of her pocket, and rolling it into a little ball.
“What is it then?”
“It’s the little boy—his grandfather’s dead, you know.”
“Not the little French boy’s grandfather?”
“Yes, sir.”