Stephen Cranston was the son of a sister of Mrs. Chester’s, and as they were very devoted, their children had been brought up almost like brothers and sisters. Consequently, Stephen was very much at home in his aunt’s house, and not only never hesitated to descend upon the family at any moment himself, but frequently brought a friend or two along as well. He had a friend with him this evening, another young ensign of about his own age, who appeared to be already known to the Chesters, and was presented as Mr. Jimmy Fairfax of Virginia.
Mr. Jimmy Fairfax was not so good-looking as his friend, but he had a pleasant, refined face, and spoke with a delightful Southern accent, which at once captivated Geraldine. Mrs. Chester greeted both guests cordially, and Molly hastened to present her two friends.
“These are the girls I told you I was expecting,” she said; “Geraldine Barlow and Gretel Schiller.”
At the name Gretel Schiller, young Fairfax gave a slight start, and Gretel noticed that he looked at her rather keenly as they shook hands.
“It’s because of my German name,” she told herself uncomfortably, but the young man’s manner was perfectly calm and polite, and she soon recovered from her slight embarrassment. In the meantime Stephen was saying in a teasing undertone to his cousin:
“So you’ve got your little Pumpernickel friend here at last.”
Molly flushed indignantly, but before she could reply, Mrs. Chester called them all to come in to dinner.
The Chesters were charming hosts, and before dinner was over all their guests were feeling very much at home. Even Jerry—who was generally painfully shy with strangers—quite forgot to be embarrassed, and found himself sending Molly—who sat next to him—off into irrepressible giggles over the story of a school scrap, in which he had figured as one of the chief delinquents. They were all so happy and merry; there was nothing but the uniforms of the two young men to remind them that things were not all as they used to be. But it was impossible to keep the conversation altogether away from the war, and before the meal was half over Mr. Chester and Stephen were discussing submarines and the possibility of a German blockade.
“Not much danger,” Stephen declared confidently. “When Uncle Sam once takes a hand things are pretty sure to go right.” At which piece of “Americanism” everybody laughed except Gretel, who suddenly became aware of the fact that Mr. Jimmy Fairfax was looking at her again in that same sharp, almost suspicious manner that she had noticed once before.
“He doesn’t like me,” she said to herself. “I suppose he’s one of those people who hate everything German.”