_The Countess's Story_
A FEW days later it had become unnecessary for the little Countess
Charlotta to confide her secret to Bianca Zoli, or Sonya, or to any one
else at the temporary Red Cross hospital in the capital city of
Luxemburg. Already her history had been openly discussed by visitors to
the hospital, even by the servants who were assisting with the household
work.
It was a well-known fact, apparently, that marriage was being arranged
for the youthful countess by her father and aunt to an elderly German
nobleman.
Nor was the little countess's opposition to the match, her refusal to
consider it as a possibility any more of a secret than the knowledge
that no attention was being paid her protests.
Inquiring the name of the girl who might be regarded as the prettiest
and the most wilful among the daughters of the noble families of
Luxemburg, one undoubtedly would have been told, Charlotta Scherin.
During the past four years perhaps her mixture of German and French
blood had been a disturbing inheritance.
Shortly after the passing of a portion of the American Army of
Occupation through the little country, many were the rumors and talks of
political changes and readjustments which would probably take place, but
to these the small American Red Cross unit decided to give little heed.
One thing they were obliged to hear, the Grand Duchess Marie Adelaide
had not pleased all her subjects by her surrender to German ideas and
designs during the recent years when the German army had used her
kingdom as a passageway to France.
In spite of her verbal protest against the breaking of the treaty which
declared her country neutral, once the Germans had entered her duchy the
Grand Duchess had appeared to sympathize with the invaders.
Now, whether it was the world talk of democracy, the victory of the
allies, or the old love of the little duchy of Luxemburg for France, the
people of the small kingdom were assuredly considering a change of
government.
Yet this problem did not trouble or affect the affairs of the Red Cross
hospital. Nor did the little Countess Charlotta appear deeply
interested, insisting that her family would make the same effort to
compel her marriage without regard to political reforms.
Certainly the young Luxemburg countess, whatever her upbringing, was not
a reserved character. Instead she seemed to love nothing so well as to
discuss her own past, present and future with the group of American
girls and to have them tell her as much as they would of their own
histories.
One way or another apparently the Countess Charlotta was in the habit of
managing to do what she liked.
The thing she wished at present was to remain as long as possible at the
American Red Cross hospital.
It was true at first the two Red Cross physicians who had been her
rescuers advised against her removal from the hospital. Influenced by
them, or perhaps sharing their view, her own physician had given the
same opinion. But now a number of days having passed without fresh
complications, undoubtedly the Countess Charlotta might have returned
home had she so desired.
Yet since she did not so desire and declined to stir from her bed,
naturally Sonya felt obliged to insist upon her remaining until she had
completely recovered.
The old house in which the Red Cross was now established Sonya had since
learned was the property of the girl who was in a sense an accidental
patient.
The Countess Charlotta was not a troublesome invalid, Sonya's chief
difficulty being that the Red Cross girls so enjoyed the newcomer's
society it was difficult to keep them out of her room during any of
their spare moments.
Certainly she was brave and made as little as possible of her physical
suffering, and then her insatiate curiosity about American girls was a
charm in itself.
As a matter of fact it was Charlotta who soon knew more of the history
of the present group of Red Cross girls than any one of their number had
ever formerly known.
Both Mildred Thornton and Nona Davis told her of their own engagements,
perhaps unwisely sympathizing with the difference in their own futures
and hers.
Bianca Zoli spared nothing of her past save the betrayal of her
country's secrets by her Italian mother, a fact to which she never
alluded.
Sonya even discovered herself relating anecdotes of her own somewhat
long and checkered career for the benefit of the newcomer who was at
once the guest of the hospital and its hostess. She even spoke of her
recent marriage to Dr. David Clark and the fact that his Red Cross unit
would establish a hospital in one of the old castles on the Rhine as
soon as the American Army of Occupation were in possession of Coblenz.
Ruth Carroll reported that she had not so interesting a story to tell as
she knew the little countess would have liked to hear. Her life had
been fairly prosaic; her father was a country doctor in a little
Kentucky town and she had never left home until the interest in the war
led her to study nursing and later to join the Red Cross service in
France.
Regardless of Charlotta's openly expressed unbelief, Ruth insisted that
never in her life, not even as a little girl, had she possessed a real
admirer.
In compensation Ruth could only declare that if Theodosia Thompson cared
to tell of her past it would form a contrast to her own humdrum tale.
It chanced that Bianca Zoli was also in the little countess's room when
one evening after supper Theodosia dropped in to rest and talk before
going upstairs to bed.
Her duties were over for the day and it seemed to both the other girls
that she appeared tired and cross. Yet the work at the hospital at
present was not severe. Most of the American soldiers, who had suffered
attacks of influenza on their eastward march, were now nearly well,
while a few of them had already left the hospital at Luxemburg for one
of the convalescent hospitals in southern France.
In their brief acquaintance Bianca and Charlotta had become intimate
friends, for one reason because Bianca had more time to devote to her
than the regular Red Cross nurses. But there was another strange bond in
the difference in their temperaments, since concealment of her emotions
was the habit of Bianca's life, while Charlotta apparently never
concealed anything.
Yet Bianca was talking of Carlo Navara and their friendship when
Theodosia interrupted her unconscious revelation of her affection for
the young American soldier and singer.
"Perhaps you would rather I did not come in," Theodosia protested,
standing a moment on the threshold and frowning.
Then, when both girls had insisted on her entrance, she came and sat
down in a large chair with her small feet thrust under her.
Bianca was sitting on the edge of Charlotta's bed, both of them having
been examining a box of jewelry which the young countess had demanded
sent from her home earlier in the day.
The big room was very comfortable with a few pieces of old furniture
which had not been removed from this chamber to give place to the
regular hospital accommodations.
A shaded electric light was on a table near the bed throwing its warm
lights on Bianca Zoli's fair hair and on the Countess Charlotta's black
curls which she had tied with a band of bright blue velvet.
"You children look very young and very fortunate," Theodosia began, her
tone a little envious.
"It must be agreeable, Countess Charlotta, not to be a Miss Nobody of
Nowhere, even if you have difficulties of your own to contend with."
Theodosia made a queer little face, wrinkling her small nose, the dark
light appearing in the centres of her large, pale blue eyes.
"I don't think I could make up my mind even in my present condition to
marry a German nobleman, but a nobleman of another variety I think I
would accept regardless of his age and the democratic ideas which are
supposed to possess my country. As a matter of fact, I don't suppose any
girls in the world ever wanted to marry into the nobility more than
American girls before the war. I rather wonder if we have altogether
changed. But at any rate I have nothing to offer to anybody, neither
beauty, nor brains, nor money, nor family."
Then observing that both her companions appeared shocked by her
pessimism Theodosia laughed, her expression changing with extraordinary
swiftness.
"I wonder if you girls would like to hear a little of my history. I hope
you won't be bored. After all it is only fair that we should know
something of each other before we can form fair judgments. I wish I had
the courage to confide in Mrs. Clark, but I don't think she likes me.
"I might as well tell the worst or the best of myself first. My mother
was a dancer. I don't know much about her except that she was ill and
came to a little Kentucky town to try to recover. My father was a boy,
younger than she, and fell desperately in love. He married her without a
cent and against the will of his older brother, a small farmer. Well, my
mother died and my father died soon after when I was a few years old.
Afterwards I was brought up by a very unpleasant old uncle of the story
book variety, who disliked me and everything about me.
"I never had any friends except Ruth Carroll, who is an angel and has
always been good to me. People in little towns are still suspicious of
an ancestry like mine. I want to be a dancer myself, but I have never
had the opportunity. So I studied nursing because Ruth was studying and
because I wanted to help in the war and most of all, to get away from
Cloverport, Kentucky.
"There is my history in a nutshell, but what is really interesting in
life isn't the chapters one has already read, it is the chapters to
come. I hope we may soon go on to Coblenz. I am sure we will have an
interesting time there. Only of course I am sorry, Countess Charlotta,
that you will not be with us."
Older than her companions, Theodosia's dramatic Irish instinct was
somewhat overwhelming. Even the little Luxemburg countess felt her own
story of less interest and importance by comparison.
Fortunately Theodosia had also an Irish sense of humor and observing the
awestruck expressions of her companions, suddenly she laughed a gay
little laugh which was one of the attractions of her odd and not always
pleasing personality.
"Oh, you must not take what I have just told you too seriously. Ruth
Carroll, who understands me better than any one else, says I get more
pleasure than sorrow out of my queer history. As for the dancing I only
wish to do folk dancing and Mrs. Clark tells me the soldiers are
beginning to be interested in folk dancing as one of the methods of
amusing themselves. I told her how much I was interested and she told me
there might be a chance to help entertain the soldiers as well as nurse
them, after the army of occupation settles down for a long watch upon
the Rhine. Goodnight," and even more quickly than she had appeared,
Thea, as her friends called her, slipped out of the big chair and
disappeared.
A few minutes later Bianca went her way to bed. She was wearing a small
pin which the Countess Charlotta had given her, not only as a mark of
her friendship, but for a secret reason which only the two girls were to
know.
So it chanced that the group of Red Cross girls and the little Luxemburg
countess became fairly well acquainted with each other's past histories
because of the natural fondness of girls for confiding in one another.
Only Nora Jamison never talked of herself, and though appearing
perfectly friendly, seemed to devote all her spare time to the
companionship of the little French girl, Louisa.