“No,” said Barry, “I'm afraid I don't know about it. Tell me!”
“It was a great fight,” said the girl. “Oh, a splendid fight!” A ring came into her voice and a little colour into her cheek. “They tried to rush our men, but they couldn't. My oldest brother was there in charge of a machine gun section. The machine guns did wonderful work. The colonel came to tell us about it. He said it was very fine.” There was no sign of tears in her eyes, nor tremor in her voice, only tenderness and pride.
“And your mother is alone now?” inquired Barry.
“Oh, we gave up our house to the government for a hospital. You see, father was in munitions. He's too old for active service, and mother is matron in the hospital. She was very unwilling that I should come over here. She said I was far too young, but of course that's quite nonsense. So you see, we are all in it.”
“It is perfectly amazing,” said Barry. “You British women are wonderful!”
The brown eyes opened a little wider.
“Wonderful? Why, what else could we do? But the Canadians! I think they're wonderful, coming all this way to fight.”
“I can't see that,” said Barry. “That's what that old naval boy at Devonport said, but I can't see that it's anything wonderful that we should fight for our Empire.”
“Devonport! A naval officer!” The girl lost her calm. She became excited. “What was his name?”
“I have his card here,” said Barry, taking out his pocket book and handing her the card.