The Red Cross Girls with the Russian Army Part 20

Nona knocked and the next moment the door was opened by a young French woman. For an instant they stared at each other, then kissed in a bewilderingly friendly fas.h.i.+on.

"Why, Nicolete, I can't believe my own eyes!" Nona protested. "What are you doing back here in your own little house, only it is so changed that I would scarcely have recognized it."

Nicolete's dark eyes shone and the vivid color flooded her face.

"I am married," she explained. "You remember Monsieur Renay, whom Mademoiselle Barbara named 'Monsieur Bebe?' Well," Nicolete laughed bewitchingly, "he is my husband."

"And is he----" Nona asked and hesitated.

Nicolete shook her head. "He can tell the light from the darkness, and now and then can see me moving in the shadow. Some day, the doctors say, his sight may be fully restored. He has seen the best specialists.

Madame Eugenie sent us both to Paris. She it was who made us a home here in the woods out of the old hut, so that my husband might have the fresh air and grow strong to aid his recovery."

"Madame Eugenie," it was a pretty t.i.tle and one that Eugenia would probably always have in this French country, which had so long known the old Countess as Madame Castaigne.

When Barbara and Mildred returned from the chateau Nona sincerely hoped they would bring news of Eugenia's arrival, since she was growing more than anxious to see her again.

CHAPTER XIX

_The Reunion_

In truth, Barbara and Mildred were having a delightful afternoon at the Chateau d'Amelie.

When they arrived, solemnly Francois invited them into the old French drawing room they so well remembered.

But here, instead of the slender, tiny figure of the old Countess appearing to greet them, a tall, dark young woman came forward, whose hair was wound about her head like a coronet.

"Eugenia!" Barbara exclaimed, and straightway shed several tears, while Eugenia and Mildred laughed at her.

Then the three girls went over and sat down on the same Louis XIV sofa that two of them had once occupied with young Captain Castaigne, on their first visit to the chateau.

This time Eugenia took the place of honor in the center, while each hand clasped one of her companions.

"Henri and I arrived just an hour ago," she explained. "He found he could get a three days leave to come with me. Of course, I wished to rush off to the farmhouse before I even got my traveling things off. But since I am a much managed woman these days, I was made to wait until you came here. I have been expecting you every minute. Now tell me about Nona and Madame Valesky."

This time it was Barbara who laughed. The idea of Eugenia's being managed instead of managing other people was amusing. Besides, it was unlike her to talk so fast and ask so many questions without giving one time to reply.

So Barbara only held closer to her friend's hand and looked at her, leaving Mildred the opportunity for answering.

It was still early in the afternoon and the suns.h.i.+ne flooded the beautiful drawing room. It was strange to see how at home Eugenia seemed to look and feel in it, when a little more than a year before she and the old room had been so antagonistic.

Eugenia had changed. In the first place, she wore this afternoon a lovely costume of violet crepe, trimmed in old gold brocade. It was a costume that must have been specially designed for Eugenia, so perfectly did it suit her rather stately beauty and dark, clear coloring. This turned out to be true, since Eugenia a short time before had discovered a little French dressmaker, whom the war had rendered penniless, and given her work to do.

Now, even while Mildred was talking of Nona and Sonya, the drawing room door opened and Captain Castaigne and his mother came in.

Monsieur Le Duc accompanied them, but promptly deserted his former master and mistress and padded over to Eugenia, placing his great silver head on her lap and gazing at her with adoration.

Captain Castaigne and his mother followed to greet their guests. In his hand the young officer carried a number of letters which he gave at once to Barbara and Mildred.

"These just arrived at the chateau for you; they are American letters and so I am sure you will be pleased."

Mildred's were from her mother and father and Barbara had received three from d.i.c.k in this same mail, and another which looked as if it might be the long-expected letter from Mrs. Thornton.

After ten minutes of conversation, it was Captain Castaigne who proposed that their guests might be allowed to read their letters without waiting to return home. It was not difficult to guess at their impatience, since it must have been a long time since they had heard from home.

Then he and Eugenia crossed over to the other side of the room and stood by the fireplace. Le Duc went with them and Eugenia kept one hand on the dog's head.

Now and then she smiled over something Captain Castaigne said to her, then again she looked at him with the anxious gravity that was a part of Eugenia's character. The war had made the young French officer older, love and marriage had apparently taken ten years from Eugenia's age.

Plainly a beautiful understanding existed between the husband and wife, in spite of the differences in their natures, which would survive to the end.

For when Captain Castaigne suddenly lifted his wife's hand and kissed it, it was like Eugenia to blush and whisper a protest, at which the young officer only laughed.

Over by the window Barbara and Mildred were really too busy with their letters to notice what was taking place. Madame Castaigne had gone out of the room for the instant to speak to Francois.

Of course, Barbara had read d.i.c.k's letters first. She could only read them hastily, for d.i.c.k had written to say that he had a fine position with a big real estate office in New York City, and enough salary for two persons to live upon, in a tiny apartment on the west side. Barbara was to come home at once, else d.i.c.k would probably lose his job by deserting to fetch her. Also the letter from Mrs. Thornton was cheering.

Whatever it may have been, something had occurred to change that lady's state of mind. Perhaps it was her anxiety about Mildred in the days when she knew nothing of her daughter's fate except that Mildred had stayed behind at Grovno until the hour of the final surrender of the Russian fort.

For Mrs. Thornton had written to Barbara to say that she would be most happy to welcome her as d.i.c.k's wife, and the dearest wish of her heart was to have her two daughters safe at home in New York City as soon as they were able to return.

Mildred's letters were much of the same character, and the two girls had only barely finished them when Francois appeared bearing coffee and cakes.

Then the little party talked on until nearly dusk.

At last, when Barbara and Mildred felt compelled to leave, Eugenia proposed that she and Captain Castaigne walk over to the farmhouse with them. She did not feel that she could wait for another day before seeing Nona.

Nona and Sonya had just been in a few moments and taken off their wraps when the others arrived. And Nona need have felt no nervousness over Eugenia's att.i.tude toward Sonya. Many things had happened to broaden Eugenia's point of view since her arrival in Europe to act as a Red Cross nurse. Besides, few persons could fail to feel anything but sympathy and admiration for the beautiful Russian woman, whose life had come so near closing in tragedy.

There was not a great deal of food at the farmhouse, nevertheless Eugenia and Captain Castaigne remained to dinner.

Barbara and Mildred retired to act as cooks, while Eugenia and Sonya fell to talking together, and Nona and Captain Castaigne.

In the course of their talk Nona remembered to inquire for Lieutenant Hume, who was Captain Castaigne's friend. At last she might be able to hear real news of the young British officer.

By good fortune Captain Castaigne had received a letter written by him in the same post that had brought Barbara's and Mildred's letters.

"Lieutenant Hume had gone to the United States and was living at the present time in Florida. He had appeared to have contracted a fatal illness during his imprisonment, but his letter had said he was feeling ever so much better.

"I can't say how glad I am," Captain Castaigne continued. "There was never a braver fellow in the world than Robert Hume. And besides, if he should happen to die just now, it would be particularly hard on his family. You see, Hume's older brother, the one with the t.i.tle, has just been killed in the Dardanelles. Robert Hume is Lord Hume now, I believe, and the English think more of t.i.tles than we do in Republican France,"

the French officer concluded.

"But I thought," Nona commented stupidly, "that Lieutenant Hume was a gardener's son and had been educated by friends who were interested in him."

Then Nona stopped, because Captain Castaigne was half smiling and half frowning over her information. Moreover, Nona suddenly remembered that what she was saying was founded partly on information and the rest on her own fancy.

"Lieutenant Hume told me he was the gardener's son," she protested, "or at least he called the gardener's wife 'Mother Susan.'"