_A Discussion, not an Argument_
"But very probably you were mistaken in thinking it was Lieutenant
Hume," Nona announced. "I am sure he had not been taken prisoner when we
left France."
Barbara raised herself on one elbow in her small bed and answered
irritably:
"I most certainly was not mistaken, Nona Davis. I ought to know Robert
Hume perfectly well after our meeting in Paris and his visit at the
chateau. Besides, though he dared not speak, he showed that he
recognized me. I even promised him that you would write him a note to
the prison if it were possible." Then Barbara relaxed and sank down on
her pillow again.
She and Nona and Mildred were in her small room at the hospital. It was
time for them all to have been in bed and asleep, since they chanced
not to be engaged in night nursing. But Barbara had retired early, as
she was extremely tired. Then, some time after, Nona and Mildred had
crept in to find out what had become of her. They had missed her during
the afternoon, but had not known of her expedition with Dr. Mason.
Now Nona looked annoyed.
"What an extraordinary thing, Barbara, for you to promise! I am sure I
see no reason in the world why I should write Lieutenant Hume. We are
only acquaintances. Of course, I am sorry to know he is in hard luck.
But for me to begin writing him under the circumstances would look as if
we were intimate friends."
Barbara slipped her arms up over her head, making a kind of oval frame
for her face.
Nona and Mildred were seated on either side the foot of her bed.
"I think you are absurd, Nona," she commented, in the frank fashion
which was not always either advisable or pleasant. "I really don't
believe I did say you would write, only that one of us would.
Naturally, I thought as you knew Lieutenant Hume best you would prefer
it. I don't consider he would think you were being _too_ friendly with
him. He is too much of a gentleman. He would understand that you were
sorry for his hard luck and pitied his loneliness. I wonder if it was
because you were brought up in the south that you are so conventional?
You don't seem to be so all the time, only when it suits you. I am sure
I will write the note to Lieutenant Hume with pleasure if I find he is
allowed to receive letters except from his family."
Evidently Barbara was in a mood when it made but little difference to
her whether or not she made Nona Davis angry. Yet she and Nona had once
seemed to be devoted to each other and appeared to be friendly now.
Nona, however, was not given to quarreling. So, although she flushed
uncomfortably, she made no immediate answer.
Mildred, however, broke into the conversation hastily.
"Well, you did have an extraordinarily interesting afternoon, Barbara,
though it must have been a trying one. I confess Nona and Dick and I
were all hurt when we found you had gone out without even speaking of
your intention. We have asked you to go with us any number of times.
Dick said he did not suppose you knew any one in the hospital well
enough to have accepted an invitation."
At this Barbara rose up to a half-sitting position, still with her
arm-encircled head leaning against her pile of pillows.
"Was Dick here this afternoon?" she inquired, wondering within herself
why she felt pleased over Dick's hearing of her departure.
"Oh, he only stopped by for a moment to bring Nona a book," Mildred
added. "I just chanced to see them as I was passing by in the hall. But
you look very tired, Barbara. Would you like Nona and me to leave you?
You can tell us more of your experiences another time. But I advise you
to ask Dick if he can make any suggestions about the poor little
Frenchman. Monsieur Bebé sounds so pathetic. You know Dick may have
something worth while to propose. He is doing such splendid work with
the Relief Committee."
Barbara patted Mildred's hand gently and, it must be confessed, a little
condescendingly.
"You are apt to think Dick does everything well, Mill, aren't you," she
announced, "whether it is looking after the starving Belgians or leading
a dance in a ball room? Still, I don't think I shall trouble him. I have
a plan of my own in mind for the boy and I am going out to see Eugenia
to ask if she thinks it feasible. Then if she thinks it is, I shall go
ahead and see what can be accomplished."
"And leave all of us completely in the dark," Nona added. "I must
confess, Barbara, I don't think it kind of you to speak to Mildred about
Dick in such a superior, almost scornful, fashion. In the last few weeks
we have both been aware that you did not care to be intimate with us.
But whatever we may have done, I can't see how Dick Thornton can have
merited your disapproval. I don't believe you have even seen him alone."
Barbara's cheeks flared. "And I wonder how you formed that opinion,
Nona? However, it strikes me as none of your business."
The instant Barbara had made this speech she was sorry. One was always
at a disadvantage in a quarrel with Nona Davis. For Nona never for a
moment forgot her dignity or breeding. She was white now, while Barbara
was crimson. Her lips were curling a little scornfully, but she answered
quietly, "I am sorry to have made you angry; that was not my intention."
However, in spite of her apology, the younger girl remained absurdly
aggrieved. Yet she had the grace to turn to Mildred.
"I am sure you understand, Mildred, that I never intended to be
disagreeable about Dick. You must know that I admire him very much."
Mildred leaned over and deliberately pinched Barbara's flushed cheeks.
"I know you are a little goose," she asserted, "to be quarreling with
Nona as though you were two badly brought up children."
But Barbara was not to be appeased. She made no answer, and the next
moment Nona slipped off the bed and knelt on the floor beside her.
"What is the matter, Bab? What is it that has been making you feel and
behave so differently toward me lately? If I have been to blame in any
way I apologize with all my heart. I confess I was absurd about
Lieutenant Hume. I liked him very much the few times we met. I might at
least be willing to do the poor fellow a kindness when he is in hard
luck. But you see, he does not belong to a very good family in England.
Though he behaves like a gentleman, after all he is only a gardener's
son."
It was not Barbara who interrupted this time, but Mildred Thornton.
"That is nonsense, Nona," she protested. "I have heard you say something
of that kind two or three times. Anyone who has traveled in the least
knows that no gardener's son in England is educated as Lieutenant Hume
is, nor has such perfectly self-possessed manners. Besides, he is a
lieutenant."
Nona shook her head. "Yes, I know it does sound impossible," she
returned. "But Lieutenant Hume told me himself that he was the son of
the gardener when I first met him in Surrey. He was at home then,
recovering from a wound in the leg and was lying asleep near the
gardener's cottage. It has often struck me as queer since, but I have
worked it all out. Lieutenant Hume must have been educated by some one
who considered him unusual. And commissions have been given in the
British army in this war for merit as well as for family reasons."
But Nona was evidently weary of the subject of the young English
lieutenant. She had remained kneeling on the floor and she now took hold
of Barbara's somewhat limp hand in a very sweet fashion.
"But you haven't said what the trouble is between us, Bab, or whether
you are willing to forgive me?" she continued. "I should feel very
unhappy if anything serious interrupted our friendship. Eugenia seems so
far away these days and I don't believe she is anxious to have us come
to see her often."
"Oh, Eugenia is busy," Barbara answered carelessly. "But it is all
right, Nona; of course I am not angry with you. I was vexed for a
moment, but I expect that was because I am tired. It is ridiculous to
suggest that there could be any serious trouble between us."
To the best of her ability Barbara tried to speak with sincerity. Nona
looked exquisitely pretty and appealing as she knelt beside her. One
would have forgiven her almost any offense. Yet Barbara could not
truthfully convince herself that Nona had committed an offense against
her. Nevertheless, she did not feel a return of her affection, although
she struggled to have her manner at least appear unchanged.
But Nona was conscious of the difference, for she rose immediately to
her feet.
"I am sorry we disturbed you tonight when you were so tired," she said,
holding her chin just a little higher than usual. There was no change in
the soft inflections of her voice. "Good night."
Then Nona left the room without looking back. But Mildred stopped to
kiss Barbara. "You haven't been any too nice to me either, Mistress
Barbara," she asserted. "If you don't reform I shall tell Dick and make
him find out the reason why."
Of course Mildred made this speech without in the least meaning it.
Nevertheless, after both girls had left the room and she should have
been asleep, Barbara remembered. She sincerely hoped that Mildred would
not be so tiresome as to tell Dick of their personal differences. But
what was the root of the trouble between her and her two former friends?
For the life of her Barbara could not decide. Or, if at the depth of her
heart she knew, she was not brave enough to confess the truth to
herself.