""Rah for cotton," cheered Dorothy.
"--and on one side of this division you slip in the scissors and the file and the tweezers or the orange stick and on the other a little buffer with a strap handle that doesn"t take up any room."
"How in the world do you happen to be so up in manicure articles?"
queried Helen, amazed at his knowledge.
"Nothing strange about that," returned Roger. "Aunt Louise showed me hers the other day when I was talking to her about making one for just this occasion. Aha!"
"You could make the same sort of case without the pasteboard part.i.tion, for a tiny sewing kit," offered Ethel Blue, "and one of the envelope shape will hold soap leaves."
"I"d like to suggest a couple of shirtwaist cases," said Mrs. Smith.
"They are made of dotted Swiss muslin that takes up next to no room and washes like a handkerchief. You"d better make Mademoiselle"s of colored muslin or of colored batiste for she won"t want to be bothered with thinking about laundry any oftener than she has to."
"What shape are the bags?"
"Find out whether she will take an American suitcase or a bag. In either case measure the size of the bottom. Take a piece of muslin twice the size and lay it flat. Fold over the edges till they meet in the centre.
Then st.i.tch the tops across, on the inside, of course, and hem the slit, and turn them right side out and that"s all there is to it. They keep waists or neckwear apart from the other clothing in one"s bag and fresher for the separation."
[Ill.u.s.tration: Shirtwaist Case]
"Since I have my hand in with knitting," said Grandmother, "I believe I"ll contribute a pair of bed-shoes. They"re so simple that any one who can knit a plain strip can do them."
"Let"s have the receipt."
"Cast on st.i.tches enough to run the length of the person"s foot. Fifty will be plenty for any woman and more than enough for Mademoiselle"s tiny foot. It"s well to have the shoe large, though. Knit ahead until you have a strip six inches high. Then cast off from one end st.i.tches enough to make four inches and go ahead with the remainder for four inches more."
"That sounds funny to me," observed Ethel Brown. "Not exactly the shape of my dainty pedestal."
"You"ll have made a square with a square out of one corner like this piece of paper. Now fold it along the diagonal line from the tip of the small square to the farthest edge of the big square and sew up all the edges except those of the small square. That leaves a hole where you put your foot in. Crochet an edge there to run a ribbon in--and you"re done."
"I"m going to run the risk of Mademoiselle"s laughing at me and give her a folding umbrella," said Mrs. Morton. "It will fit into her bag and at least she can use it until she goes to the front."
"All this sounds to me like a good outfit for any woman who is going to travel," observed Helen. "I"m almost moved to sail myself!"
CHAPTER VIII
THE RED CROSS NURSE SETS SAIL
THE girls" cheeks were rosy and their hair was tangled by the wind as Helen and the rest of the U. S. C. left the car at West Street and made their way to the French Line Pier. Roger was heading the flock of Mortons, Mrs. Smith was with Dorothy, the Hanc.o.c.ks had come from Glen Point, more for the fun of seeing a sailing than to say "Good-bye" to Mademoiselle, whom they hardly; knew. The Watkinses were accompanied by their elder brother, Edward, a young doctor.
There was a mighty chattering as the party hastened down the pier. A mightier greeted them when they reached the gang plank.
"Every Frenchman left in New York must be here saying "Good-bye" to somebody!" laughed Tom as his eye fell on the throng pressing on to the boat over a narrow plank across which pa.s.sengers who had already said their farewells were leaving, and stewards were carrying cabin trunks.
"Only one _pa.s.serelle_ for all that!" exclaimed a plump Frenchman whose age might be guessed by the fashion of his moustache and goatee which declared him to be a follower of Napoleon III. He was carrying a bouquet in one hand and kissing the other vehemently to the lady on the deck who was to be made the recipient of the flowers as soon as her admirer could manage to squeeze himself down the over-crowded gang plank.
Taxis driving up behind the U. S. C. young people discharged their occupants upon the agitated scene. All sorts of messages were being sent across to friends on the other side, many of them shouted from pier to deck with a volubility that was startling to inexperienced French students.
It was quite twenty minutes before the Club succeeded in filing Indian fashion across the _pa.s.serelle_. They were met almost at once by Mademoiselle, for she had been watching their experiences from the vessel.
"Before you say "Good-bye" to me," she said hurriedly, "I want you to go over the ship. I have special permission from the Captain. You must go quickly. There are not many minutes, you were so long in coming on."
She gave them over to the kind offices of a "_mousse_" or general utility boy, who in turn introduced them to a junior officer who examined their permit as "friends of Mademoiselle Millerand" and then conveyed them to strange corners whose existence they never had guessed.
First they peeked into a cabin which was one of the handsomest on the ship but whose small size brought from Ethel Brown the comment that it was a "stingy" little room. The reading and writing rooms she approved, however, as being cheerful enough to make you forget you were seasick. A lingering odor of the food of yester-year seemed to cling about the saloon and to mingle with a whiff of oil from the engine room that had a.s.sailed them just before they entered. People were saying farewells here with extraordinary impetuosity, men embracing each other with a fervor that made the less demonstrative Americans smile. One group was looking over a pile of letters on the table to see if absent friends had sent some message to catch them before they steamed.
Below were other staterooms, rows upon rows of them, and yet others below those. By comparison with the fragrances here that in the saloon seemed a breeze from Araby the Blest.
From above the party had looked down on the engines whose huge steel arms slid almost imperceptibly over each other as if they were slowly, slowly preparing to spring at an unseen foe; as if they knew that great waves would try to still them, the mighty workers of the great ship. A gentle breathing now seemed to stir them, but far, far down below the waterline the stokers were feeding the animal with the fuel that was to give him energy to contend with storms and winds and come out victor.
Half naked men, their backs gleaming in the light from the furnaces, threw coal into the yawning mouth. The heat was intense, and the Ethels turned so pale that young Doctor Watkins hurried them into the open air.
Helen was not sorry to breathe the coolness of the Hudson again and even the boys drew a long breath of relief, though they did not admit that they had been uncomfortable.
"Mademoiselle Millerand awaits you in the tea room," explained the young officer, and he conducted them to a portion of the deck where pa.s.sengers could sit in the open, or, on cold or windy days, behind gla.s.s and watch the sea and the pa.s.sengers pacing by.
Mademoiselle greeted them with shining eyes. During their absence there had been some farewells that had been difficult.
"You have seen everything?" she inquired pleasantly. "Then you must have some lemonade with me before you go," and she gave an order that soon brought a trayful of gla.s.ses that tinkled cheerfully.
"We are not going to be sentimental," she insisted. "This is just "Good-bye," and thank you many times for being so good to me at school, and many, many times more for the bundle that is in my room to surprise me. I shall open it when the Statue of Liberty is out of sight, when I can no more see my adopted land. Then shall I think of all of you and of your Club for Service."
"Where do you expect to be sent, Mademoiselle?" inquired Doctor Watkins as the party walked toward the _pa.s.serelle_ over which they must somehow contrive to make their way before they could touch foot upon the pier.
"To Belgium, I think. My brother is a surgeon and I have a distant relative in the ministry--"
"What--_the_ Millerand?"
Mademoiselle smiled and nodded.
"So probably I shall be sent wherever I wish--and my heart goes but to Belgium. It is natural."
"Yes, it is natural. May you have luck," he cried holding out his hand.
"Mademoiselle is going to Belgium," he told the young people who were awaiting their turn at the gang-plank.
They gazed at her with a sort of awe. Tales of war"s horrors were common in the ears of all of them, and it was difficult to believe that the slight figure standing there so quietly beside them would see with her own eyes the uptorn fields and downfallen cottages, the dying men and the miserable women and children they had seen only in imagination.
"Oh," gasped Ethel Blue; "oh! _Belgium!_ Oh, Mademoiselle, _won"t_ you send us back a Belgian baby? The Club would _love_ to take care of it!
Wouldn"t we? Wouldn"t we?" she cried turning from one to another with glittering eyes.
"We would, Mademoiselle, we would," cried every one of them; and as the big ship was warped out of the pier they waved their handkerchiefs and their hands and cried over and over, "Send us a Belgian baby!"
"_Un bebe belge! Ces chers enfants!_" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed a motherly Frenchwoman who was weeping near them. "A Belgian baby! These dear children."
And then, to James"s horror, she kissed him, first on one cheek and then on the other.