There by the pool on a log with a book in her lap sat Eugenia. She was not reading, however, although her book lay open. At the sound of Captain Castaigne’s chair approaching she looked toward him. The young man’s expression was severe on this occasion, not Eugenia’s.
“I am sorry to intrude upon you,” he began stiffly. “Your friends told me that you were suffering from a headache; naturally I did not expect to find you here.”
In response Eugenia smiled good-naturedly, just as one might to a fretful child. She had gotten up at once and now came forward and took the young man’s hand.
“I did have a headache, Captain Castaigne. I am too good a Puritan to have told a complete story. But while I did not[251] feel well enough to see and talk to a number of persons, I did not desire to go to bed, where Barbara was pleased to send me by way of punishment. Besides, I knew your mother would prefer to have the two girls to herself. I really think she misses them now that they can see so little of each other. But why talk about me? You are stronger every day, aren’t you? Can’t you walk with your crutches if Fran?ois is near? Come, won’t you try now? I am sure I can catch you if you are too much for Fran?ois.”
Two spots of angry color appeared in Captain Castaigne’s cheeks.
“I am through with your support, Miss Paybodé,” he returned curtly. “When I choose to walk I prefer not to be held up by a woman.”
“Oh,” Eugenia answered, and stared at her former patient helplessly. What had she said or done to make him so angry?
But the next instant the young officer had taken her hand and in French fashion touched it with his lips.
“Forgive me,” he said, “I am impossible.[252] This, after I depended on you so long for every care. If you will be so good, I think I should like to sit there on the log where you were sitting.”
During his illness Eugenia had grown so accustomed to these swift changes of mood in her patient that she paid no especial attention to this one. Instead she helped him out of his chair and kept at his side while he hobbled over to the log she had just deserted.
But when she stood above him looking down upon him with pride and satisfaction over his achievement he grew angry again.
“If you cannot sit beside me I have no idea of taking your place,” he protested.
The next instant Eugenia sank meekly down. It rather amused her to have Captain Castaigne treat her in this fashion.
Just before them was the small lake which Nona and Barbara had discovered the first morning after their arrival at the farmhouse. It was shadowy now with the coming of evening, but still the water was coolly clear. Its beauty soothed one to silence.
[253]
It was Eugenia who spoke first.
“I am glad to have this moment here with you, Captain Castaigne,” she began, with a return to her former manner. “Because I wish to tell you and have you explain to your mother that Nona and Barbara and I may be leaving this part of the country in a little while. The truth is, our services as nurses are not needed here as they were some months ago. There is little fighting going on and several new French nurses came down from Paris the other day. Besides this, Mrs. Thornton and Judge Thornton have grown very nervous and unhappy over Mildred, as well as the rest of us, in the last few weeks. They have both written to urge me to persuade the other girls to join me and go into Belgium to help with the relief work there. You are almost well now, so I shall be able to say good-by with much greater satisfaction.”
This last speech Eugenia made in a gracious tone and yet her companion received it ungraciously. And this in spite of the fact that his manner was usually charming.
[254]
“There is no time when you would not say good-by to me with satisfaction, Miss Paybodé,” he returned. “However, if I am spared perhaps I may some day show my appreciation of your great kindness. I have written my colonel to say that I shall be able to rejoin my command in another week or ten days. I have wasted much valuable time with two illnesses. Perhaps the third may be my lucky one!” he finished, casting his dark eyes upward with dramatic intensity.
In reply Eugenia actually patted his knee in a comforting, motherly fashion.
“Don’t be absurd. You cannot return to your command for two or three months at least,” she admonished.
“Two or three weeks shall be the limit to my patience,” her companion repeated, still talking like a sulky boy.
Eugenia frowned. “I shall speak to your mother. She will never allow it.” Again her manner was that of a New England school teacher. Nevertheless Captain Castaigne did not smile. Yet he seemed to have forgotten his age and dignity[255] as well as rank in the army, for you see he had been a good many weeks under Eugenia’s discipline.
“The day you go to Belgium I shall return to my post,” he muttered.
Eugenia would like to have shaken him. Had he been in the little “Farmhouse with the Blue Front Door,” she would simply have gotten up at this instant and left her patient until he had learned to behave himself. But at present the circumstances were different, and besides she might not have a chance to talk to him again. So somehow he must be made to behave sensibly.
“You will do no such thing. You owe more than that to me,” Eugenia protested unexpectedly. A few moments before she would not have believed that any earthly thing could have forced her to mention, either to Captain Castaigne or to any one else, the sacrifices which she had made for him. But now she had spoken deliberately and meaning exactly what she said.
Nevertheless the young French officer did not answer immediately.
[256]
“Eugenié,” he said finally, and the querulous, boyish note in his voice had quite gone, “you must listen to me. I have been talking like a child, but I am scarcely surprised at myself, since you have always insisted upon treating me as scarcely more than a child. I have borne with it because I have been ill and you have known me only in that condition. But, Eugenié, I will endure it no longer.”
The young man’s voice held a quietly determined quality. He was perfectly courteous and yet his listener understood at this instant why he was considered one of the most forceful as well as one of the most popular of the younger officers in the French service.
Nevertheless Eugenia scarcely knew how or what to reply.
“I am so sorry, Captain Castaigne,” she answered. “I have not intended to fail in respect to you. But perhaps I have unintentionally presumed on your long weakness and dependence upon me.”
And this from Eugenia! Moreover, her face had flushed and she could not lift her[257] lids because of the tears in her eyes. Yet she was not really angry with Captain Castaigne.
The next time he spoke his voice was once more gentle and he even managed to smile.
“You know that is not what I mean in the least. It is absurd of you to talk of showing proper respect to me, Eugenié, as if I were your commanding officer. Surely you understand that when a man cares for a woman as I do ............