A DEPARTURE AND AN ARRIVAL
One evening two days later a little after the hour for bedtime at the
farm, Mrs. Burton knocked softly at Miss Patricia's door.
Miss Patricia quickly opened it.
"You are ill, Polly Burton. Well, it is just what I have been expecting
ever since the arrival of that strange man and woman. It seems to me
that we had quite enough to do without entertaining guests. Besides, it
strikes me as pure waste of energy, this riding about through the
country with strangers when you should be at some _real_ work."
During her speech Miss Patricia had drawn the younger woman into her
room, closed the door behind her and was now gazing at her severely but
it must be confessed solicitously as well.
"But I am not ill, Aunt Patricia," Mrs. Burton protested as soon as she
was allowed an opportunity to speak. "I only came in to have a talk with
you about something important."
Aunt Patricia's bedroom was large and empty, for there was more space at
the old farm house than furniture. A great old-fashioned French bed had
been spared from the general wreckage and upon this Mrs. Burton seated
herself, drawing her feet up under her and her lavender dressing gown
about her, since with so little heat in the house the bedrooms were
uncomfortably cold.
There was but one solitary stiff-backed chair, in which Miss Patricia
sat perfectly erect.
"Why not come here and sit beside me? There is plenty of room, and you
will be more comfortable," Mrs. Burton urged.
Aunt Patricia shook her head.
"I am quite comfortable where I am. Moreover, Polly Burton, if I am an
old woman and you no longer a young one, at the same time I am aware
that you have every idea of trying to persuade me to some point of view
of which you do not think I will approve. I have seen your methods
before this evening. Thank you, I shall remain where I am."
Mrs. Burton laughed.
Aunt Patricia did look so uncompromising in a hideous smoke-gray
dressing gown made without any attempt at decorations. Her small knot of
hair was screwed into a tight coil at the back of her head.
Mrs. Burton's own hair had kept its beautiful dusky quality, it had the
dark sheen of the hair of the mythical Irish fairies, for only in
Anglo-Saxon countries are fairies of necessity fair. Tonight Mrs.
Burton's hair was unbound and hung about her shoulders as if she were a
girl.
Fearing that Miss Patricia might regard her frivolous appearance with
disfavor, she now began braiding it into one heavy braid.
"What ever it is you desire to say, I do wish you would begin, Polly, so
that we both can go to bed," the elderly spinster remarked.
Mrs. Burton shook her head. "You are not in a good humor, are you, Aunt
Patricia? But at least there is one thing you will be glad to hear: our
guests, Monsieur Duval and Mrs. Bishop, are leaving our farm the day
after tomorrow."
"A good riddance," Miss Patricia answered sharply.
Then observing that her companion had flushed and undoubtedly was
annoyed by her plain speaking, Aunt Patricia's manner became slightly
mollified.
"It is not that I have anything personal against your friends, Polly. I
must say they have both endeavored to be very agreeable since their
arrival and to give as little trouble as possible. But I told you on
board ship I did not like the attitude of that Frenchman toward you. It
was no surprise to me when he discovered he had important business in
this part of France. Of course it should not be necessary for me to
remind you that you are a married woman, with your unfortunate husband
serving his country in France many miles from here and also that you are
chaperoning a group of young girls. I suppose you will simply tell me
that I do not understand French manners, but that is neither here nor
there, Polly Burton. Your Frenchman is polite to your friend, Mrs.
Bishop, I must confess he is also courteous to me; but I am obliged to
repeat that his manner neither to Mrs. Bishop nor to me is in the least
like his manner to you."
"Aunt Patricia, you are so ridiculous! Still I don't feel like laughing
this time; you really are making me angry," Mrs. Burton answered.
"I have made a great many persons angry in my life, Polly. I cannot even
flatter myself that this is the first time I have offended you. However,
I feel compelled to speak the truth." Miss Patricia's tone remained
imperturbable.
"But that is just the trouble, Aunt Patricia, you are not speaking the
truth, although of course I know you don't realize it and I beg your
pardon," Mrs. Burton argued. "But why do you allow yourself to acquire
such prejudices and such foolish impressions? I simply refuse to discuss
the suggestion you have just made. Please never speak of it to me
again."
Ordinarily when the celebrated Mrs. Burton assumed an air of offended
dignity such as she wore at present her world was apt to sue for pardon.
Miss Patricia revealed no such intention. As a matter of fact, as she
remained resolutely silent and as Mrs. Burton had not yet explained the
reason for her visit, it was she who had to resume the conversation in a
conciliatory manner.
"I presume you won't approve then, Aunt Patricia, of what I wish to
speak to you. Monsieur Duval has been ordered to southern France on some
work for his government and has asked Mrs. Bishop and me to accompany
him, because it is work in which he thinks we may be useful. You know
the Germans have been sending back some of the French refugees whom they
drove before them in their retreat. There are groups of five hundred at
a time who now and then are sent over the border either from Germany or
Switzerland. They are penniless and not only have no money or food or
clothes; they do not know whether their families are living or dead and
in any case have no way to reach them. The French government is to try
to arrange some plan by which homes may be secured for these unfortunate
people until they can communicate with their relatives or friends."
"An excellent idea, but I do not exactly see your connection with it,"
Miss Patricia returned.
Mrs. Burton shrugged her shoulders impatiently. In all her life she
never remembered any one who had opposed her desires in exactly the same
fashion Miss Patricia did. Then, a little ashamed of herself, she
answered gently but firmly:
"My connection is that I am interested and that Mrs. Bishop and I have
both decided to accompany Monsieur Duval. It is barely possible that we
may be useful and able to offer a certain amount of advice. So many of
the refugees are young women who have suffered impossible things and may
require special care and shelter. Besides, I am very deeply anxious to
see more of the country. We expect to travel south in the sector the
Germans held three years ago. I will thus be able to find out how much
restoration work has already been accomplished and how great a task
remains. Moreover, Aunt Patricia dear, I have a personal errand. Surely
you will think this important.
"You remember my talking to you of the old peasant whose granddaughter,
Elsie, had been driven into exile. Except to me the old woman has never
spoken of her loss. Now there is a possibility that Elsie has been sent
back into France and I have promised Grand'mere to search for her.
"Moreover, Aunt Patricia, each village in the devastated districts has
been ordered to prepare a list of names of the missing who disappeared
at the time of the German retreat. These lists are to be turned over to
Monsieur Duval. A committee is to be appointed near the frontier to take
charge of the lists and see that the refugees get in touch with their
own people as soon as possible. Don't you think this a wonderful
scheme?"
As Mrs. Burton unfolded the plan which had been carefully worked out
with a great deal of foresight and care, in her enthusiasm she forgot
Miss Patricia's chilling attitude. She had spent many hours during the
brief visit at the farm of Mrs. Bishop and Monsieur Duval in the outline
she had just explained.
Aunt Patricia continued to look unimpressed and uninspired.
"I told you before, Polly, that I had no idea of criticizing Monsieur
Duval's efforts in behalf of his government. I know the situation you
speak of is extremely deplorable. Still I fail to see any reason for
your assistance. There is sufficient work for you in this immediate
neighborhood. However, I presume you have definitely made up your mind,"
Miss Patricia concluded.
Before replying, Mrs. Burton waited a moment, watching for a sign of
yielding in her companion. But as Miss Patricia gave none, she nodded
her head.
"Yes, Aunt Patricia, I am going with Mrs. Bishop and Monsieur Duval,
although I am sorry you do not approve of my making the trip. I won't be
away more than two weeks and I feel I may be of greater service than by
remaining here."
"You also feel that traveling about through the French country with a
distinguished French politician and a woman author will be far more
exciting than staying at the farm and doing your duty, Polly Burton,"
Miss Patricia added, allowing her accumulated anger to overflow at last.
"Do, please, whatever else you wish to add by way of camouflage, at
least confess the truth. I presume it is your idea to leave me to look
after the group of girls you undertook to chaperon in France?"
In spite of the fact that by this time, Mrs. Burton, whose amiability
was never her strong point, was in as bad a temper as her antagonist,
she had to confess to herself that in Miss Patricia's last speech the
scales dropped in her favor.
"Why, yes, Aunt Patricia, that is what I wish you to do. But will it be
such a serious responsibility? The work at the farm is so splendidly
organized now and the girls are so deeply interested, I don't see why
you should have any especial difficulty if you will just allow things to
go on as they are at present."
Of her own free will Miss Patricia at this moment rose from her stiff
chair and came and sat on the edge of the bed facing the younger woman.
She showed no sign of relaxing either physically or mentally, or of any
softening in her rigid point of view.
"I wonder, Polly Burton, if you have any reason for believing that
things usually go on in exactly the same fashion in this world, after
one has carefully arranged that they should? Of course I shall do my
best to look after the Camp Fire girls, although they do not like me and
I do not understand them. There is no telling what may occur in your
absence," Miss Patricia ended so gloomily that Mrs. Burton's eyes shone
with merriment, although she carefully lowered her lids.
At the same instant, to her surprise, she felt Miss Patricia lean over
and seize her by both shoulders. For a second she wondered if Aunt
Patricia had made up her mind to shake her because of her rebellion.
Instead Miss Patricia added unexpectedly:
"Polly, my dear child, I really don't wish you to go on this wild goose
chase, partly for the reasons I have given you, but also because I am
afraid for you. You know the world is expecting another great German
offensive this spring and no one understands why it has been delayed so
long. Well, you must realize that as you travel farther south in France
the line between the German and the French armies grows narrower and
narrower. Only a few miles of victory and the Germans will again occupy
their old line! It is possible you might arrive at some district at a
crucial moment when a battle was beginning. Then the saints alone could
preserve you!"
With the last few words of her long speech Miss Patricia reverted to her
Irish brogue and her Irish faith.
Afterwards Mrs. Burton was glad to remember that, although Aunt Patricia
certainly was not regarding her with affection at the moment,
nevertheless, she slipped her arm about the elderly lady's hard and
upright shoulders.
"You are a dear, Aunt Patricia! But please don't worry. We are not going
into any dangerous neighborhoods. The drive will not begin for many
weeks. In any case there will be no retreat. Yet indeed we mean to take
every possible precaution and at no time will we be near the German
line. It is good of you to think I am worth worrying over, but this time
it is not necessary."
"Have you your husband's permission for this trip, Polly? I presume you
have written Richard Burton of your new French friend?" Aunt Patricia
demanded as a last forlorn hope.
In reply Mrs. Burton smiled and nodded.
"Yes, I have done both of those things. I wrote Richard about Monsieur
Duval soon after our meeting on shipboard. But of course I have had no
reply to my letter with regard to my trip south with Mrs. Bishop and
Monsieur Duval, for there is not time for me to hear before we leave."
"And nothing will change your decision, Polly?"
Mrs. Burton had slid down on to the floor from the high old bed and now
stood before Miss Patricia, hesitating for the fraction of a second.
"I do wish you would not put the question in such a way, Aunt Patricia.
You make me think of what Sally Ashton said to you, as if I too were a
disobedient child, and I am more than twice Sally's age. Of course I do
not wish to do anything you oppose, but the trip to southern France and
the work I hope to be able to accomplish will be a great opportunity and
a great experience. I hope you will make up your mind to feel as I do
before we start the day after tomorrow."
Before Aunt Patricia could reply, Mrs. Burton made a hasty and carefully
designed retreat. Being fully cognizant that there was no possibility of
Miss Patricia's relenting, she wished to pretend to believe she might
change her mind and at the same time to announce the proposed time for
her own departure.
Fortunately for Mrs. Burton's courage and decision, her plan met with no
especial opposition from any other member of the Camp Fire group.
The girls regretted her leaving, and Sally Ashton more than the others;
nevertheless it appealed to them as it had to Mrs. Burton, as a
wonderful chance for service and at the same time a thrilling adventure.
Two days later, even at the moment when the automobile appeared at the
door to bear off Mrs. Burton and her two companions, Miss Patricia's
attitude remained unchanged.
Mrs. Burton devoted the last five minutes before her departure to
begging Aunt Patricia to bestow her final consent and parting blessing.
Aunt Patricia steadfastly refused.
She also declined to see the automobile leave the farm. Instead, during
the final farewells, turning her back upon the assembly, she marched up
alone to her own room. Once inside, it is true she wiped away several
tears, but immediately after set herself to writing a letter to Captain
Richard Burton. And Captain Burton and Miss Patricia only were to know
what the letter contained! Fortunately Captain Burton understood Miss
Patricia and her devotion to his wife. Moreover, the extent of her
devotion was to be proven later.
The following day, perhaps because of Miss Patricia's prediction that
nothing in life runs on continuously in the same groove, an unexpected
telegram was brought out to the French farm house for Peggy Webster.
In the telegram Lieutenant Ralph Marshall of the United States Aviation
Service in France stated that, having been slightly injured by a fall,
he had secured a few day's leave of absence. Would he be permitted to
spend his leave with Mrs. Burton and the Camp Fire girls at their farm
house on the Aisne?
To Peggy Webster there appeared to be but one possible answer to this
amazing piece of good fortune, and fortunately she was able to persuade
Aunt Patricia to the same point of view. Miss Patricia did not approve
of young men, but she did approve of Peggy and understood the situation
in regard to Ralph.
Therefore the return telegram read: "Yes."
Except for brief intervals, Peggy and Ralph had seen but little of each
other since their summer together in Arizona, a summer which had been
fateful for them both. It had not occurred to Peggy that either she or
Ralph would ever change their minds with regard to their future
marriage, in spite of the fact that she was but eighteen years old and
Ralph not much older. There remained only the question of persuading
their two families to share their view.
In the last two years Ralph had been redeeming his former idleness.
Having volunteered for aviation work before the entry of the United
States into the world war, he had been able to secure a commission and
already had been in France a number of months.