“Then you knew we were here?” Nona questioned half shyly. Nona and Barbara were seated on a wide window seat with Captain Castaigne beside them. A little further on Eugenia, in a carved, high-back chair, was watching the group but taking little part in the conversation. Mildred and the Countess Amélie were on the opposite side of the great room, still having their coffee and chatting amiably, though in not an animated fashion. For the Countess would have scorned to speak any language but her beloved French, and while Mildred’s French was good it was not very rapid. Nevertheless, her manners were undeniably sweet and unaffected and the Countess plainly approved of her more than any one of the other girls.
Captain Castaigne smiled at Nona.
[140]
“Well, I had my suspicions,” he answered, with the faintest gleam of amusement in his dark eyes. “Moreover, I received a letter from Lieutenant Hume telling me that four American Red Cross girls had disappeared from Paris and were nursing somewhere in southern France.” The young officer bowed his head with a pretense of penitence. “Also I must confess that I have asked a few questions of old Fran?ois. You see, I have only recently been transferred to a regiment near my own home, else I should have prayed for the privilege of calling upon you. But not having seen any one of you until this afternoon, I could not be sure my surmise was correct.”
In her throne-like chair Eugenia’s shoulders assumed a straighter pose, while her face turned unexpectedly scarlet.
“Are you entirely convinced you have seen no one of us since our meeting in Paris?” she inquired so suddenly and in such a peculiar tone, even for Eugenia, that Nona and Barbara turned to glance toward her in surprise.
[141]
Not having spoken in the past ten minutes, her eyes were now fixed upon the young French officer with an expression which Barbara Meade at least recognized. It plainly expressed disapproval.
Nevertheless, there was no reason why Captain Castaigne should instantly become embarrassed. Up to this time he had been a delightful host, gracious and gay. Certainly his manners were not like those of an American or an Englishman, but Nona and Barbara instinctively understood that his fashion of paying pretty compliments and his somewhat devoted air as he talked to one, were simply characteristics of a foreigner.
Now, however, he blushed and stammered like a school-boy. With Eugenia’s gaze upon him he crimsoned and cast down his eyes.
“If I have seen one of you before I am sure I have not recognized you,” he returned with unnecessary humility. “I have been at work with my soldiers most of the time since receiving my new command. I only return to the chateau occasionally to see my mother.”
[142]
Eugenia’s nostrils arched slightly in a way she had when angry.
“Do you usually pay these visits in the daytime or in the evening?” she questioned, with what seemed to the other two girls rather too much curiosity. For these were war times when one was not supposed to ask questions that were not absolutely necessary.
Still the young officer showed no resentment.
“I have no regular hour, Mademoiselle. Whenever I can be spared I desire to be with my mother. There are only the two of us and we have been much separated. First there were the years devoted to my training as a soldier and since has come the cruel fortune of war.”
From the opposite side of the room the Countess Amélie must at this moment have guessed that her son was speaking of her. She looked toward him with such a combination of pride and devotion that it was almost touching. Her whole face softened.
But Eugenia did not observe her.
[143]
“I am not so sure we have not met each other in this neighborhood quite recently,” she continued with extraordinary coldness. Nona and Barbara became more and more surprised. For although Eugenia was not cordial with strangers, she was usually civil. Vainly they were searching their minds for some remark with which to turn the current of the conversation when Eugenia went on:
“I was on my way home to our little farmhouse the other evening, after nursing at the field hospital until quite late. I met some one, an officer, I think. It was then too dark for me to see his face, but I have been wondering ever since——”
At this moment Eugenia’s speech was interrupted, but not by one of her companions. For the heavy door of the drawing room was pushed slowly open and a great dog walked majestically into the room.
He paused for an instant to gaze at his mistress. Then receiving her silent permission, he started a pilgrimage about the room.
[144]
Nona shrank behind the smaller Barbara, for in spite of her usual bravery she had a nervous fear of dogs. However, this great Dane was not to be feared by guests inside his own domain. As he padded from one visitor to the other it was plain that he was greeting each one of them in turn. Mildred came first and was allowed to lay her hand on his head, then Nona and Barbara. Afterwards the dog moved toward Eugenia. Within a few feet of her he paused, his ears and tail visibly drooping, and turned imploring eyes upon his young master.
Whatever the signal that passed between them, the next moment the splendid creature sank down at Eugenia’s feet, burying his head between his forepaws. His whole attitude indicated a ............