"You are doing a noble work, Cousin Belinda. These are all Germans, you say? Are you sure?"
He asked the question keenly, glancing about the ward.
"You would better question them," said Belinda with scorn.
"Oh, the Herr Doktor will do that—without a doubt. He will arrive soon. And he is a great man, indeed! But I will report," he added, swinging on his heel. "You may as well come, too, Carl. I don't wish to give you any advantage with our cousin.
"You are very charming, Belinda. And I am considered a judge of the charms of pretty fräuleins."
"Is it so, Paul?" she retorted. "I see you are a very forward boy. You have yet to learn your place. Carl," she added, smiling at his rather downcast face, "will you do something for me?"
"A thousand, Cousin!" he cried, his stolid countenance beaming again.
"Find my little infirmier, Erard. He speaks enough German to make himself understood. You must be kind to him."
"He will be questioned by the Herr Lieutenant," promised Paul, laughing.
"So I shall be, I presume," the nurse said coolly. "But one may easily see the poor little lame man, Erard, is quite harmless."