Camilla left him in the hall, while she went into the library and read the contents of the letter to Mr. and Mrs. Francis.
She returned presently and with a pleasant smile said, holding out her hand, "You are Mr. Russell. I am glad to meet you. Tell Pearl the flowers will be sent to-night."
She opened the door as she spoke, and Jim found himself going down the steps, wondering just how it happened that he had not said one word—he who was usually so ready of speech.
"Well, well," he said to himself as he untied Chiniquy, "little Jimmy's lost his tongue, I wonder why?"
All the way home the vision of lovely dark eyes and rippling brown hair with just a hint of red in it, danced before him. Chiniquy, taking advantage of his master's preoccupation, wandered aimlessly against a barbed wire, taking very good care not to get too close to it himself. Jim came to himself just in time to save his leg from a prod from the spikes.
"Chiniquy, Chiniquy," he said gravely, "I understand now something of the hatred the French bear your illustrious namesake. But no matter what the man's sins may have been, surely he did not deserve to have a little flea-bitten, mangey, treacherous, mouse-coloured deceiver like you named for him."
When Camilla had read Pearl's letter to Mr. and Mrs. Francis, the latter was all emotion. How splendid of her, so sympathetic, so full of the true inwardness of Christian love, and the sweet message of the poppy, the emblem of sleep, so prophetic of that other sleep that knows no waking! Is it not a pagan thought, that? What tender recollections they will bring the poor sufferer of her far away, happy childhood home!
Mrs. Francis's face was shining with emotion as she spoke. Then she became dreamy.
"I wonder is her soul attune to the melodies of life, and will she feel the love vibrations of the ether?"
Mr. Francis had noiselessly left the room when Camilla had finished her rapid explanation. He returned with his little valise in his hand.