A VOICE AND A FACE
“I must see who leaves this house!” decided the Overton girl, glancing
about her perplexedly. “The window!”
Quietly raising it she crawled through, then pulled it down with the
least possible noise. A path that led past the side of the house
extended back to the next street. Out through this Grace ran, then down
one block and out to the main street, where she took up a position in a
shop across the way, from whose windows she could command a good view
of the front of the house in which she and Elfreda lived.
Grace kept her vigil for the better part of an hour, but no one
emerged. She was getting restive, and the shop people now and then
regarded her curiously.
“This will never do,” thought Grace. “I am making myself too
conspicuous. I believe I will move to the next shop.” She did so,
stopping at a place several doors below. Grace had been there but a few
moments when the door of the doctor’s house opened and Doctor Klein
stepped out and walked rapidly down the street in her direction. He
halted when opposite the store and strode across toward it. She saw him
heading, as she thought, for the shop, and boldly stepped out.
“Ah, Madame Gray,” greeted the doctor. “I observed you waiting in the
store and I came right over. Perhaps you were waiting for me?”
“Perhaps I was.” She smiled pleasantly. “I would ask how the maid Marie
is.”
“Sleeping when I saw her last. I too have been indisposed and have been
sleeping for the last two hours,” volunteered the doctor, his keen,
twinkling eyes regarding her shrewdly.
Grace smiled, but not by the slightest expression of face or eyes did
she show that she knew him to be telling an untruth.
“The maid is suffering from shock, nothing more. She should be able to
resume her duties before the day is done.”
“I am glad to hear that, Doctor. I am going on to the canteen. Are you
going in that direction?”
The doctor smiled, bowed, and, taking the outside of the walk, stepped
briskly along beside her. They chatted of the occupation by the
American troops, Grace taking the opportunity to say she hoped the
inhabitants would not take advantage of the leniency of the invaders
lest the Americans put heavy restrictive measures upon them that might
prove burdensome.
“Our people are kindly disposed, but they are quite likely to be savage
when imposed upon or deceived,” she added.
“Ah! They are like my own countrymen, whose hearts are tender, Frau
Gray, but those hearts are breaking to-day. We are very sad and full
of humility. Yes, I have said that we were wrong, but that is not the
fault of the German people. It is Wilhelm and his war lords who should
be blamed.”
“Oh, Doctor, you forget! Did you not have an army in the field?”
“Most certainly.”
“And they were Germans, several millions of them. Is it not so?”
He bowed profoundly.
“Then why blame it all on the man who, like a coward, has run away
and left you to work out your own salvation? The German nation--the
whole nation--was behind the Kaiser in this wicked war--wicked so
far as Germany was concerned. If I may say so without offense, the
trouble--one of the shortcomings, I should say--with your people is
that they are not good sportsmen. They are unsportsmanlike losers.
Instead of standing up like men and confessing that they were wrong and
that they are whipped, they prate about the spirit of Germany being
unbroken, and then whimper like spoiled children because the victor
says they must pay for breaking his windows!”
“You are very severe on my people.”
“Herr Doctor, I have been on the western front, up on the lines, for
many months, and I have seen much, too much ever to permit me to grow
sentimental about ‘the poor German nation that had nothing to do with
the war,’ that was opposed to the war, and refused to fight, but let
the Kaiser fight it out all by himself.” Grace laughed, and her laugh
took the sting out of her words, but they went home to the heart of the
Herr Doctor, and his face reddened.
“I have admitted that our rulers were in error; I do not admit that
the German people were at fault. They were forced into the war,” he
answered stiffly.
“And forced out of it,” retorted Grace. “Pardon me, but I should not
have said so much. When I hear Germans glibly throwing off their own
responsibility for the wounding and killing of several million men I am
inclined to be irritable. Suppose we drop the subject and not refer to
it again. When did you leave the service, Doctor?”
“I--I--why, what made you think I had been in the service?” he parried.
“Your walk. You have been in the German army. At times you forget
yourself and lapse into the goose-step. There I go again. That was too
personal. I ask your pardon.”
“You are a keen woman, Frau Gray. I served my time in the army when a
young man, as all good Germans have done--”
Grace interrupted him with a merry laugh.
“Thank you for the compliment. Thank you for admitting the truth of all
that I have said about the German people. Of course there is nothing
personal, unless one chooses to assume it, in what I have said. We part
on the best of terms, do we not, Herr Doctor?” urged Grace, pausing and
extending her hand.
Doctor Klein bowed stiffly over it. He appeared to be somewhat dazed
over her rapid-fire conversation.
Grace backed away and saluted. She was answered by the stiff military
salute of the German officer. The doctor flushed as he realized that
he had again been caught napping by a woman. The Overton girl smiled a
guileless happy smile, and turning she walked rapidly away.
“Our fine doctor, clever as he thinks he is, has been checkmated,” she
chuckled. “But watch your step, Grace Harlowe. When he thinks it over
in his methodical German way he will be furious.”
Grace hurried on to her canteen, well satisfied with her morning’s
work, but more perplexed than ever. She had been favored by a kind fate
in meeting the doctor, had turned his attempted flanking movement into
a defeat and had made him appear ridiculous. That was quite sufficient
for one morning, yet Grace could not understand why only the doctor had
emerged from the house, finally deciding that perhaps the other had
gone out by the route that she herself had taken in leaving the house,
through the yard in the rear.
When Grace reached the canteen, she found Elfreda very busy assisting
in serving a crowd of doughboys, and Won Lue, wearing a happy smile,
working like a beaver, assisting. She paused to observe for a moment or
so, then stepped in.
“Has the supervisor not been in yet?” she asked.
Elfreda shook her head.
“I wonder why?”
“I shouldn’t worry my head about it were I in your place,” returned
Miss Briggs briefly. “Miss Cahill and Miss O’Leary were here a few
moments ago inquiring for you. They are located about four miles
from here and find themselves very lonely. Miss Cahill said the only
compensation about it is that they do not have to listen to the
supervisor’s unpleasant remarks all day long. I am glad she has left us
alone this morning. Anything doing over at the quarters?”
“Quiet. I walked down most of the way with the doctor and we had a
delightful chat. That is, I enjoyed it. I am not so certain about his
enjoyment.”
“Poor Doctor! Here, Buddy, don’t try to play tricks on me. I am a
lawyer at home, and I am likely to use my legal knowledge to advantage
if you try to slip a bar of chocolate in your pocket when you think I
am not looking. Come across, please.”
The doughboy did so shamefacedly, while his companions laughed
uproariously.
“Here! I don’t believe in taking candy from babies. Here are two pieces
for you because you have promised to be good. This army has the biggest
sweet tooth in the world,” she said, handing two bars of chocolate to
the discomfited doughboy.
“I--I’m sorry,” muttered the doughboy.
“That is all right, Buddy. I was just making conversation, and you
happened to furnish the makings. When you wish any more and haven’t
the money to buy, come in just the same. If I am here you will get it,
and if I am not ask for Mrs. Gray. She is even easier than I am.”
Grace, talking to a group of soldiers, overheard and smiled to herself.
She was proud of Elfreda. The war had done wonders for the young
lawyeress; it had made her more tolerant of her fellow man; it had
filled her heart with a human sympathy that she had never known before;
it had made her a womanly woman, at the same time sharpening her wits.
Elfreda would turn her back on war and return to her profession a
better and bigger woman mentally than when she had joined the colors.
Grace’s heart was full of gladness as these thoughts filtered through
her mind.
“You savvy Missie Slith?” questioned a voice in her ear.
“Yes, I savvy her, Won. What about her?”
“Me savvy Missie Slith.” Won chuckled and shook hands with himself.
Grace regarded him half amusedly, then turned to her customers.
All at once the Overton girls found themselves alone, so far as
customers were concerned. The doughboys had remained as long as they
could find an excuse for remaining, for they were happy to be able to
talk to two bright, good-looking American girls, the “girls from God’s
country,” as they expressed it, but they were careful not to outstay
their welcome. Had they known it both girls were just as eager to talk
with the soldiers as the soldiers were to talk with them.
“Now that we aren’t busy, tell me about the doctor,” urged Elfreda.
Grace perched herself on the counter with her back to the door and told
the story of her walk with the German physician, but failed to mention
what had occurred in the house. She did admit that she was waiting in
the shop to see who came out of the house, and mentioned the doctor’s
bold move in going directly to the store. Grace was convinced, after
her talk with the physician, that he did not know that she had been in
the house. It was probable, as she reasoned it out, that he must have
seen her enter the second store, if not the first.
“That was fine. I could not have given it to him straighter myself,”
declared Miss Briggs mischievously. “You made him dizzy, I’ll warrant.
I know just how you did it. You could talk a deaf and dumb man to
death, I really believe. Why were you so curious about seeing who came
out of the house?”
“Just a little idea that I had in mind. I--” The expression on her
companion’s face caused Grace to pause. Elfreda’s face had suddenly
assumed a strained expression, the lines had hardened ever so little
and the eyes had narrowed.
It was not necessary for “Captain” Grace to turn around facing the door
to see who or what had so changed her companion.
“Girl, you will please get down from the counter!” commanded the cold
voice of Mrs. Chadsey Smythe, though it was a more restrained tone than
she had ever employed in speaking to Grace.
“You are right, Mrs. Smythe. It is not a dignified position,” answered
Grace laughingly, hopping down from the counter.
“Why bother her? She seems to be enjoying it so much,” urged a voice
that was pleasing. “I know I should be perched up there all the time
were I on duty here.”
Grace suddenly felt the color mounting to her cheeks. She had not
yet turned about to face the newcomers, but the Overton girl knew
that voice, and at the same time knew that she must control herself
before she faced the owner of it. When she finally did turn, after a
meaningless word or two to Elfreda to aid the process of control, Grace
presented a smiling face and laughing eyes that offered no trace of
recognition as she looked into the eyes of the woman who accompanied
Mrs. Smythe.
“You will kindly remain standing while on duty after this,” added the
supervisor. “Are all of our supplies here, none missing?”
“Yes, Mrs. Smythe, all that were sent over last evening from the
wreck.” Grace was wondering what had come over Mrs. Smythe that she was
exercising so much self-control. Ordinarily in the circumstances the
supervisor would have worked herself into a towering rage. Then wonder
of wonders! Mrs. Smythe introduced her companion.
“This is Mrs. Gray. Miss Marshall, Mrs. Gray.” It was done sourly and
resentfully, but it was better than Grace Harlowe had any reason to
expect of her immediate superior.
Grace extended a hand and greeted the young woman smilingly.
“I am glad to meet you,” she said, but as she said it “Captain” Grace
again saw this same face beside that of a German officer on the other
side of the Rhine, and heard these smiling lips utter the words: “She
is as hideous and as ugly as no doubt her soul is black.”