_With the American Army in France_
“But, Gene, the hospital is so perfect in every detail! I don’t see how
you have managed and it is so fine to be working here in France with
you again. But best of all, you don’t seem to have changed and I was
afraid----”
Nona ended her speech abruptly, not having intended making this final
remark.
Three or four hours before she and Barbara Thornton and the two other
Red Cross nurses had arrived at the new hospital, set aside for the
care of the American soldiers of which Eugenia, Madame Henri Castaigne
was in charge.
For the first two hours Eugenia had been too occupied to do more than
greet her old friends and make the acquaintance of the new girls. But
since dinner she had been showing the four of them over the hospital.
So far there were not a great many patients, only a few of the
soldiers with not very serious illnesses, so they were receiving the
most devoted attention.
Then, after their survey of the hospital, Eugenia and Mildred Thornton
with the four newcomers had gone up to their own rooms.
The nurses’ rooms were on the top floor of the building, which had
once been a private country place, converted, largely under Eugenia’s
direction, into a modern hospital.
Instead of occupying one long room like a hospital ward, it was one of
Eugenia’s ideas that the Red Cross nurses required privacy and quiet
after the long strain of their work. So the space had been divided into
small apartments, two girls in each room. Nona and Eugenia were to have
one, Barbara Thornton and Mildred Thornton, her sister-in-law, the one
adjoining, while Mollie Drew and Agatha Burton were across the hall.
The half dozen other nurses had the same arrangements.
At Nona’s last words, Eugenia Castaigne’s face had changed in
expression slightly, but she made no reference to what the words had
implied. However, Nona remembered that Mildred Thornton had already
written and had also told them, that Eugenia never discussed Captain
Castaigne’s disappearance and no one knew what her real feeling was, or
even if she believed her husband dead.
Just now and then in this world of ours and but very rarely, one may be
a witness to what may well be called the miracle of love.
Eugenia’s marriage to Captain Castaigne was one of these miracles. The
surprise of his caring for her when she considered herself so unworthy,
the charm of his companionship, although they had seen each other
seldom, whatever it was, the fulfillment of the best in her, which
comes to some women only through marriage had come to Eugenia. This she
could never lose. So the somewhat narrow-minded, even if intelligent
and conscientious, old maid had disappeared forever and Eugenia, or
_Madame Eugenie_, as the French people called her, was one of the most
gracious and sympathetic of women.
Moreover, she had a genius for hospital work. Whatever demands she
might make upon her assistants under the pressure of necessity, she was
never unjust and never spared herself, two great traits in the fine
executive nature.
“Oh, I am all right and never more interested than in our American
hospital, Nona. I thought I could never care for any soldiers as I
have for the gallant French _poilus_, always gay and full of courage
even to the end. But now when I think of our American boys coming on
this long journey to fight for the triumph of Christ’s idea of human
equality--for that is what, in its largest sense, this war against
Germany means--well, perhaps I am too much of an enthusiast.
“But there I am on my present hobby and I did wish to talk just of
personal matters this first night.”
Eugenia had raised her arms and was taking down her long, heavy brown
hair.
It was only about eight o’clock in the evening, but the four friends
had planned to undress and have the hours before bedtime for a long
talk.
In the next room Barbara was re-reading a letter which she had found
waiting for her at the hospital, written by her husband. She and her
sister-in-law were discussing this and other family matters.
Nona had already undressed and put on her dressing gown, a lovely blue
silk negligée which Sonya had given her, since Sonya now insisted on
Nona’s having pretty clothes. She was now half sitting, half lying on
the bed with her pale yellow hair rippling over the pillow.
Eugenia turned to put on her own lavender dressing gown and then stood
looking down on the other girl.
“Tell me, Nona--of course I understand you don’t have to confess unless
you wish--but you know I have often wondered; are you especially
interested in anyone? So far, you alone of our group of four Red Cross
girls seems to have escaped, and I certainty never dreamed in those
early days that both Barbara and I would be married, Mildred engaged
and you remain free. Is it because you are too much of a Fra Angelico
angel (who was it who used to insist you looked like one?) to feel
ordinary emotions?”
Nona laughed, glad that Eugenia could discuss this particular subject
in so cheerful and natural a fashion, yet changing color slightly.
“Do you wish me to confess, Gene, that I am so much less attractive?
Because, after all, that must be the truth.”
Nona tried to keep her voice perfectly steady and her eyes directly
regarding Gene’s. Nevertheless, to her own annoyance she found that
Eugenia’s question had brought back the memory of Eugino Zoli and the
last night in the old Italian garden. Again she wondered if he had ever
really cared for her.
Something in her expression may have betrayed her, for Eugenia changed
the subject.
“Don’t you think Mildred is keeping up wonderfully well when she hears
so little news of General Alexis? He is still a prisoner and must
remain one until the new government discovers that in spite of his
personal friendship for the former Czar, he believes in democracy.
It seems rather a pity at present that they must lose the services of
so fine an officer. But, by the way, Nona, I meant to tell you, I had
a letter from a friend of yours, a Dr. Latham. He wrote me he had not
seen you in the United States, but that Sonya had told him you were
coming to me. He seems to feel he would like to help us here at our
American hospitals, not his one alone, but wherever he may be most
useful. Of course I know him by reputation.”
Nona frowned slightly.
“Oh, I was not sure Dr. Latham had returned from Italy, although he did
not intend to stay after he had been able to teach his new treatments
of wounds to the Italian surgeons. He is a wonderful surgeon, but a
great bear of a man, and in a way I am sorry if he is to come here. He
took up such a lot of my time in Florence.”
But at this instant Barbara Thornton made a pretense of knocking on the
door, although she entered without waiting for a reply.
“Don’t you and Nona think it would be wiser for all four of us to
be in the same room when we talk, Gene, instead of having to repeat
everything we say? I have just had a most cheerful and agreeable letter
from Dick. But do you suppose that husband of mine deigns to tell me
where he is? This ‘somewhere in France’ address must get on a good many
people’s nerves. But he need not be afraid I shall try to look him up
or interrupt him. I expect to be as busy as he is.”
Barbara took hold of Eugenia by one hand and drew her to a seat beside
her on the bed.
“Hope I shall be a more satisfactory Red Cross nurse this time than I
was at the beginning, Gene. Remember, you wished to send me home then?
But you always were wonderful. Do you know, I think you were intended
to be a Mother Superior or a Lady Abbess, if you had lived in other
days, Gene? As it is, I would rather work under you as a Red Cross
nurse than any other woman in Europe.”
“Don’t be a goose, Bab,” Madame Castaigne returned with just a
sufficient reminder of her one-time severity to make the three other
nurses, including Barbara, smile.
“But there, I can’t remember you are a married woman with a baby child.
It was fine of you to come over to us to help, under the circumstances.”
Barbara hesitated and flushed. “I don’t wish to sail under false
colors, Gene, with you or Mildred or Nona. I think I came to Europe
half because Dick is here and the other half because I wish to help.
Do you think I can ever manage to see him? I couldn’t have endured his
being so far away.”
Barbara looked so absurdly childish and forlorn that both Nona and
Mildred were amused. It was Gene these days who understood.
“Of course you will, Bab. Dick may even be helping with the ambulance
work not far from here some time. In any case I expect we can manage a
meeting. But if you children are not too tired tomorrow I want to take
you over to our American camp. I have special permission for us to be
shown as much as we have time to see. Later the officers may not wish
us and also we may be too busy. It is all so wonderful and inspiring.”
Eugenia ceased talking and for an instant no one spoke. This was
because they all heard a curious noise just outside the closed door,
one that puzzled Nona and Barbara. However, the next instant the door
swung slowly open and a great silver-gray figure entered the little
room and padded softly up to Eugenia and there stood gravely regarding
the two newcomers.
“This is our American hospital mascot. You remember Monsieur Le Duc, or
Duke as we used to call him, don’t you, Nona, you and Bab? After Henri
disappeared, in the most curious fashion, without anyone being able
to explain how he could have known, Duke grew so utterly wretched my
mother-in-law wrote me she thought the poor fellow would die. So I went
back to the château to see him. He grew better then, but I had to bring
him away with me. He never leaves me when it is possible to be near. I
think he has an idea he must take care of me. At first I was afraid he
was going to be a nuisance, but wherever I have been the soldiers have
adored him. Come, Duke, won’t you speak to your old friends?”
And, as if he had only been waiting for Eugenia’s suggestion, the great
dog walked softly over first to Nona and then to Bab, gravely extending
his paw to each of them in turn.
“You look older, don’t you, poor old Duke,” Bab whispered, putting
her brown head down on the dog’s silver-gray one. “Here is hoping for
happier days!”
But she said this so that Eugenia did not hear her. Aloud she announced:
“I should think I _would_ like to see the American camp. I never
imagined such a privilege. You know, Gene, there was the dearest
young officer whom we met on the train, a Kentucky boy. He said he
was awfully anxious to introduce some of his brother officers to me,
only he did not see how he was ever to manage, the regulations were so
severe.”
Nona raised herself up on one elbow.
“Barbara Thornton, kindly remember you are married and Eugenia merely
said she wished to show us the American camp, not to entertain us by
having us meet the soldiers. Really, you know I never approved of your
coming over to nurse again, but I did not anticipate this particular
form of frivolity, considering that Mildred is your sister-in-law.”
Barbara looked so extremely comfortable at this accusation that both
Eugenia and Mildred laughed, and this was what Nona had hoped for,
since Duke’s unexpected appearance had brought back memories difficult
to take lightly.
The American hospital, where the four American Red Cross girls and
their new companions were to work, was at the edge of one of the
villages in which the great permanent war camp for the United States
soldiers had been located.
Yet one could scarcely say the camp had been located in the village,
since it not only included the French village, but also covered the
surrounding country on all sides. In the little French houses of frame
and plaster the officers and as many of the soldiers as possible
were quartered. But wherever it was necessary, with the number of
men increasing each day, barracks were being built by the soldiers
themselves and their French comrades, while a few tents dotted the
fields like a sudden up-springing of giant mushrooms.
Not long after daylight next morning Eugenia, Mildred Thornton and the
four new nurses started for the village.
They wished to be in time for the morning drill. A moment or so before
their arrival, a little way off they heard the clear, sharp call of the
bugle and then the tramping of many thousands of feet.
After a sentry had investigated her permit, Eugenia led the way to
the roof of one of the little French houses. She seemed to know its
occupants and to have received permission beforehand. The roof was
not flat, few roofs of the houses in French villages are, though one
finds them almost always with the broad straight roofs in the larger
apartment dwellings in Paris. But this small house had a little balcony
at the top, and steep steps, almost like a ladder, leading from the
inside.
From the balcony one could see the great drill ground, where the United
States troops were now forming in lines.
Over the fields of France floated the Stars and Stripes.
But the American girls, who had lately arrived, could not see plainly,
for the mist in their eyes.