Several weeks later Barbara Meade walked down the steps of a house in Brussels out into one of the streets near the Palais de la Nation. The house had once been a private residence, but since the coming of war into the heart of Belgium had been turned into a relief hospital by the American Red Cross Society.
Barbara walked slowly, looking at all the objects of interest along the way. She wore a dark-blue taffeta suit and white blouse and a small blue hat with a single white wing in it.
Evidently she was not in a hurry. Indeed, she behaved more like an ordinary tourist than an overworked nurse. Yet a glance into Barbara's face would have suggested that she was dreadfully fagged and anxious to get away from the beaten track for a few hours. It chanced to be her[Pg 59] one afternoon of leisure in the week, so for the time she had discarded her nurse's uniform. She was also trying to forget the trouble surrounding her and to appreciate the beauty and charm of Brussels.
Yet Barbara found it difficult to get into a mood of real enjoyment. These past few weeks represented the hardest work she had yet done, for the funds for the Belgian Relief work were getting painfully low. Therefore, as there were still so many demands, the workers could only try to do double duty.
Finally Barbara entered the church of St. Gudula, which happened to be near at hand. It was a beautiful Gothic building, dedicated to the patron saint of Brussels. Once inside, the girl strolled quietly about, feeling herself already rested and calmed from the simple beauty of the interior. The tall rounded pillars and sixteenth century stained glass represented a new world of color and beauty. Although she was not a Catholic, Barbara could not refrain from saying a short prayer in the "Chapel of Notre-Dame-de-Deliverance"[Pg 60] for the safety of the Belgian people and their gallant king and queen. Barbara was too loyal an American to believe that kings and queens were any longer useful as the heads of governments. Nevertheless, as a noble man and woman, King Albert and Queen Elizabeth of Belgium, commanded her admiration and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the war neither of them seem to have given thought to their royalty, remembering only their common humanity with the people of their land.
Already comforted by the few minutes of quiet, finally Barbara slipped out of one of the side doors that chanced to be open. Afterwards she stood looking about her in order to find out just where she was.
The side street was almost entirely free from passers by. Therefore, as Barbara desired to inquire her way to the nearest tram line, she waited for a moment. At some distance down the street she could see the figure of a man walking in her direction.
She did not look very closely or she might have discovered something familiar[Pg 61] in the quick stride and the graceful carriage of the head and shoulders. The men of Brussels are rather more French than Flemish in their appearance, yet this man did not resemble a foreigner.
Indeed, he walked so much more rapidly than Barbara expected that she was extremely startled when a voice said close beside her:
"Why, Barbara, this is good luck. To think I have not seen you since the first afternoon of my arrival! I'm sorry you have been so tremendously busy every time I have had a chance to run into the hospital for a few moments. But Mildred and Nona have given me news of you."
Dick Thornton had taken Barbara's hand and was looking searchingly into her face. But after her first recognition of him she had dropped her lids, so it was not possible to see her eyes.
"I have just been up to your hospital now, but could not get hold of either Mildred or Nona. I am sorry. Nona had promised me, if she could be spared, to spend the afternoon seeing sights. I[Pg 62] have investigated thirty destitute Belgian families since eight o'clock this morning and reported their cases, so I feel rather in the need of being cheered."
Barbara's chin quivered a little, although it was not perceptible to her companion.
"I am dreadfully sorry too," she answered the next instant. "Certainly you are deserving of Nona's society for a reward. And if I had only known your plan you might have carried it out. It is my afternoon of freedom, but I would very cheerfully have changed my time with Nona."
"You are awfully kind, I am sure," Dick returned. But he scarcely showed the gratitude at Barbara's suggestion that she expected.
He glanced up at the beautiful Gothic tower of the church near them, remarking irritably, "I expect you are quite as much in need of a rest as any one else. Really, Barbara, it is all very well to do the best one can to help these unfortunate people, but there is no especial point in killing yourself. You look wretchedly. You are not trying to play at being the[Pg 63] patron saint of Brussels, are you? Is that why you haunt the church of Saint Gudula?"
Barbara smiled. "I am the farthest person from a saint in this world," she replied, wrinkling up her small nose with a faint return to her old self. "Nona and Mildred and I have decided recently that we haven't but one saint among us. And she is the last person I should ever have awarded the crown at our first meeting. Moreover, I wouldn't dare present it to her now, if she could see or hear me in the act. She would probably destroy me utterly, because my saint is very human and sometimes has a dreadful temper, besides a desire to boss everybody else. I wonder if real saints ever had such traits of character? Of course, you know I mean Eugenia! I am on my way now to her Hotel des Enfants, if I can ever find the right street car. She already is taking care of twelve children, and I have never seen her nor her house since we separated. Gene has promised to send some one to meet me at the end of the[Pg 64] car line. Her house is a deserted old place where a ghost is supposed to hold forth. But I am assured the ghost has not turned up recently. It is nice to have met you. Good-by." And Barbara was compelled to stop talking for lack of breath after her long speech, as she held out her hand. Dick ignored the outstretched hand. His face had assumed a charming, boyish expression of pleading. Barbara was reminded of the first days of their meeting in New York City.
"I say, Barbara, why can't I go along with you?" he demanded. "Of course, I realize that for some reason or other you are down upon me. I am not such a chump as not to understand you could have seen me for a few minutes in these last few weeks if you had tried. But Eugenia is friendly enough. I haven't seen her, but I had a stunning note from her. Besides, as I sent her five of her twelve Belgian babies, I think I've the right to find out if she is being good to them. I am a kind of a godfather to the bunch. Let's stop by a shop and get some stuffed[Pg 65] dolls and whistles and sugar plums. Some of the Belgian children I have discovered seemed to be forgetting how to play."
Barbara had not answered. Indeed, Dick had not intended to give her a chance. Nevertheless, her expression had changed to a measure of its former brightness. It would be good fun to have Dick on the afternoon's excursion! She had rather dreaded the journey alone into a strange part of the countryside, one might so easily get lost. Beside, Barbara knew in her heart of hearts that she had absolutely no right for her unfriendly attitude toward Dick Thornton. If he had chosen to treat her with less intimacy than in the beginning of their acquaintance, that was his own affair. If he now preferred Nona to her—well, he only showed a better judgment in desiring the finer girl.
Barbara now put her hand in a friendly fashion on Dick's sleeve.
"I am awfully glad to have you come along and I am sure Gene will be," she answered happily. "Lead on, Sir Knight, to the nearest street car."
[Pg 66]
After an hour's ride into the country, through one of Belgium's suburbs, Dick and Barbara arrived at a tumble-down shed. Eugenia had carefully described this shed as their first destination.
Not far off they found Bibo waiting for them with a rickety old wagon and an ancient horse. Money and Eugenia's determined character had secured the forlorn equipage. For it was difficult to buy any kind of horse or wagon in these war days.
However, the small driver, who was the boy Eugenia had rescued some weeks before, drove with all the pomp of the king's coachman. That is, he allowed the old horse to pick her way along a grass-grown path for about a mile. Then he invited his two passengers to get down, as there was no road up to the old house that a horse and wagon could travel.
So Dick and Barbara found themselves for the first time in their acquaintance wandering along a country lane together. Their position was not very romantic, however. Barbara led the way along the same narrow avenue that Eugenia had [Pg 67]followed on the day of her first visit to the supposedly deserted place.
Yet although Barbara almost ran along in her eagerness to arrive, Dick noticed that she looked very thin. She was not the Barbara of his first acquaintance; something had changed her. Well, one could hardly go through the experiences of this war without changing, even if one were only an outsider. And Dick Thornton glanced at his own useless arm with a tightening of his lips. He probably owed his life to the little girl ahead of him.
Eugenia did not at first see her guests approaching until they had discovered her. She was in the front yard and the grass had been cut, so that there was a broad cleared space. Moreover, every window of the supposedly haunted house was thrown wide open, so that the sun and air poured in.
It was as little like either a deserted or a haunted house as one could humanly imagine. For there were eight or ten children at this moment in the yard with Eugenia. She held a baby in her arms and a small boy stood close beside her.
[Pg 68]
Barbara saw the little fellow at the same moment she recognized her friend. Instantly she decided that he was the most exquisite child she had ever seen in her life. The boy was like a small prince, although he wore only the blue cotton overalls and light shirt such as the other boys wore.
But he must have said something to Eugenia, for she glanced up and then ran forward to meet her guests. The baby she dumped hastily into her discarded chair.
"But I thought I was to be your guest of honor, Gene?" Barbara protested a few moments later. "Never should I have allowed Dick to come if I had dreamed he was to put me in the shade so completely."
Eugenia laughed. Her new responsibilities did not appear to have overburdened her.
"Come and meet my family," she insisted. "There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, who had so many children she didn't know what to do."