"What is the matter, Mrs. Graham? Are you ill?"
Miss Sonnet"s soft, voice sounded just behind me. As I turned I thought again, as I had many times before, how very attractive the little nurse was. She had on a dark blue negligee of rough cloth, made very simply, but which covered her night attire completely, while her feet, almost as small as a child"s, were covered with fur-trimmed slippers of the same color as the negligee. Her abundant hair was braided in two plaits and hung down to her waist.
"You look like a sleepy little girl," I said impulsively.
"And you like a particularly wakeful one," she returned, mischievously. "I am glad you are not ill. I feared you were when I heard you snap on the light."
"No, you did not waken me. In fact, I have been awake nearly an hour.
I was just about to come out and rob the larder of a cracker and a sip of milk in the hope that I might go to sleep again when I heard you."
"Splendid!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, while Miss Sonnot looked at me wonderingly.
"Can your patient hear us out here?"
"If you could hear her snore you would be sure she could not," Miss Sonnot smiled. "And I partly closed her door when I left. She is safe for hours."
"Then we will have a party," I declared triumphantly, "a regular boarding school party."
"Then on to the kitchen!" She raised one of her long braids of hair and waved it like a banner. We giggled like fifteen-year-old school girls as we tiptoed our way into the kitchen, turned on the light and searched refrigerator, pantry, bread and cake boxes for food.
"Now for our plunder," I said, as we rapidly inventoried the eatables we had found. Bread, b.u.t.ter, a can of sardines, eggs, sliced bacon and a dish of stewed tomatoes.
"I wish we had some oysters or cheese; then we could stir up something in the chafing dish," I said mournfully.
"Do you know, I believe I have a chafing dish recipe we can use in a sc.r.a.p book which I always carry with me," responded Miss Sonnot. "It is in my suit case at the foot of my couch. I"ll be back in a minute."
She noiselessly slipped into the living room and returned almost instantly with a substantially bound book in her hands. She sat down beside me at the table and opened the book.
"I couldn"t live without this book," she said extravagantly. "In it I have all sorts of treasured clippings and jottings. The things I need most I have pasted in. The chafing dish recipes are in an envelope. I just happened to have them along."
She was turning the pages as she spoke. On one page, which she pa.s.sed by more hurriedly than the others, were a number of Kodak pictures. I caught a flash of one which made my heart beat more quickly. Surely I had a print from the same negative in my trunk.
The tiny picture was a photograph of Jack Bickett or I was very much mistaken.
What was it doing in the sc.r.a.p book of Miss Sonnot?
I put an unsteady hand out to prevent her turning the page.
It was Jack Bickett"s photograph. I schooled my voice to a sort of careless surprise:
"Why! Isn"t this Jack Bickett?"
She started perceptibly. "Yes. Do you know him?"
"He is the nearest relative I have," I returned quickly, "a distant cousin, but brought up as my brother."
Her face flushed. Her eyes shone with interest.
"Oh! then you must be his Margaret?" she cried.
As the words left Miss Sonnot"s lips she gazed at me with a half-frightened little air as if she regretted their utterance.
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Graham," she said contritely; "you must think I have taken leave of my senses. But I have heard so much about you."
"From Mr. Bickett?" My head was whirling. I had never heard Jack speak the name of "Sonnot." Indeed, I would never have known he had met her, save for the accidental opening of her sc.r.a.p book to his picture when she and I were searching for chafing dish recipes.
"Oh! No, indeed. I have never seen Mr. Bickett myself."
A rosy embarra.s.sed flush stole over her face as she spoke. Her eyes were starry. Through my bewilderment came a thought which I voiced.
"That is his loss then. He would think so if he could see you now."
She laughed confusedly while the rosy tint of her cheeks deepened.
"I must explain to you," she said simply. "I have never seen Mr. Bickett, but my brother is one of his friends. They used to correspond, and I enjoyed his letters as much as Mark did. I think his is a wonderful personality, don"t you?"
"Naturally," I returned, a trifle dryly. The little nurse was revealing more than she dreamed. There was romantic admiration in every note in her voice. I was not quite sure that I liked it.
But I put all selfish considerations down with an iron hand and smiled in most friendly fashion at her.
"Isn"t it wonderful that after hearing so much of each other we should meet in this way?" I said heartily. "If only our brothers were here."
Miss Sonnet"s face brightened again. "Is Mr. Bickett in this country?
" she asked, her voice carefully nonchalant. "I have not heard anything about him for two or three years."
"He sailed for France a week ago," I answered slowly. "He intends to join the French engineering corps."
There was a long moment of silence. Then Miss Sonnot spoke slowly, and there was a note almost of reverence in her voice.
"That is just what he would do," and then, impetuously, "how I envy him!"
"Envy him?" I repeated incredulously.
"Yes, indeed." Her voice was militant, her eyes shining, her face aglow. "How I wish I were a man ever since this war started! I am just waiting for a good chance to join a hospital unit, but I do not happen to know any surgeon who has gone, and of course they all pick their own nurses. But my chance will come. I am sure of it, and then I am going to do my part. Why! my great-grandfather was an officer in Napoleon"s army. I feel ashamed not to be over there."
I saw very little of d.i.c.ky"s sister and her husband during the week they spent in New York before sailing for France. True, Harriet spent some portion of every day with her mother, but she ate at our table only once, always hurrying back to the hotel to oversee the menu of her beloved Edwin.
Reasoning that in a similar situation I should not care for the presence of an outsider, I left the mother and daughter alone together as much as I could without appearing rude. I think they both, appreciated my action, although, with their customary reserve, they said very little to me.
Dr. Braithwaite came twice during the week to see us, each time making a hurried call. Harriet appeared to wish to impress us with the importance of these visits from so busy and distinguished a man. But the noted surgeon himself was simple and unaffected in his manner.
One thing troubled me. I had done nothing, said nothing to further Miss Sonnot"s desire to go to France as a nurse. She had left us the day after d.i.c.ky"s sister and brother-in-law arrived, left with the admiration and good wishes of us all. The big surgeon himself, after watching her attention to his mother-in-law upon the day of arrival, made an approving comment.
"Good nurse, that," he had said. I took the first opportunity to repeat his words to the little nurse, who flushed with pleasure. I knew that I ought to at least inquire of the big surgeon or his wife about the number of nurses he was taking with him, but there seemed no fitting opportunity, and--I did not make one.
I did not try to explain to myself the curious disinclination I felt to lift a hand toward the sending of Miss Sonnot to the French hospitals. But every time I thought of the night she had told me of her wish I felt guilty.
Jack was already "somewhere in France." If Miss Sonnot entered the hospital service, there was a possibility that they might meet.