The Countess's Story
A FEW days later it had become unnecessary for the little Countess Charlotta to confide her secret to Bianca Zoli, or Sonya, or to any one else at the temporary Red Cross hospital in the capital city of Luxemburg. Already her history had been openly discussed by visitors to the hospital, even by the servants who were assisting with the household work.
It was a well-known fact, apparently, that marriage was being arranged for the youthful countess by her father and aunt to an elderly German nobleman.
Nor was the little countess's opposition to the match, her refusal to consider it as a possibility any more of a secret than the knowledge that no attention was being paid her protests.
Inquiring the name of the girl who might be regarded as the prettiest and the mostwilful among the daughters of the noble families of Luxemburg, one undoubtedly would have been told, Charlotta Scherin. During the past four years perhaps her mixture of German and French blood had been a disturbing inheritance.
Shortly after the passing of a portion of the American Army of Occupation through the little country, many were the rumors and talks of political changes and readjustments which would probably take place, but to these the small American Red Cross unit decided to give little heed.
One thing they were obliged to hear, the Grand Duchess Marie Adelaide had not pleased all her subjects by her surrender to German ideas and designs during the recent years when the German army had used her kingdom as a passageway to France.
In spite of her verbal protest against the breaking of the treaty which declared her country neutral, once the Germans had entered her duchy the Grand Duchess had appeared to sympathize with the invaders.
Now, whether it was the world talk ofdemocracy, the victory of the allies, or the old love of the little duchy of Luxemburg for France, the people of the small kingdom were assuredly considering a change of government.
Yet this problem did not trouble or affect the affairs of the Red Cross hospital. Nor did the little Countess Charlotta appear deeply interested, insisting that her family would make the same effort to compel her marriage without regard to political reforms.
Certainly the young Luxemburg countess, whatever her upbringing, was not a reserved character. Instead she seemed to love nothing so well as to discuss her own past, present and future with the group of American girls and to have them tell her as much as they would of their own histories.
One way or another apparently the Countess Charlotta was in the habit of managing to do what she liked.
The thing she wished at present was to remain as long as possible at the American Red Cross hospital.
It was true at first the two Red Crossphysicians who had been her rescuers advised against her removal from the hospital. Influenced by them, or perhaps sharing their view, her own physician had given the same opinion. But now a number of days having passed without fresh complications, undoubtedly the Countess Charlotta might have returned home had she so desired.
Yet since she did not so desire and declined to stir from her bed, naturally Sonya felt obliged to insist upon her remaining until she had completely recovered.
The old house in which the Red Cross was now established Sonya had since learned was the property of the girl who was in a sense an accidental patient.
The Countess Charlotta was not a troublesome invalid, Sonya's chief difficulty being that the Red Cross girls so enjoyed the newcomer's society it was difficult to keep them out of her room during any of their spare moments.
Certainly she was brave and made as little as possible of her physical suffering, and then her insatiate curiosity about American girls was a charm in itself.
As a matter of fact it was Charlotta who soon knew more of the history of the present group of Red Cross girls than any one of their number had ever formerly known.
Both Mildred Thornton and Nona Davis told her of their own engagements, perhaps unwisely sympathizing with the difference in their own futures and hers.
Bianca Zoli spared nothing of her past save the betrayal of her country's secrets by her Italian mother, a fact to which she never alluded.
Sonya even discovered herself relating anecdotes of her own somewhat long and checkered career for the benefit of the newcomer who was at once the guest of the hospital and its hostess. She even spoke of her recent marriage to Dr. David Clark and the fact that his Red Cross unit would establish a hospital in one of the old castles on the Rhine as soon as the American Army of Occupation were in possession of Coblenz.
Ruth Carroll reported that she had not so interesting a story to tell as she knew the little countess would have liked tohear. Her life had been fairly prosaic; her father was a country doctor in a little Kentucky town and she had never left home until the interest in the war led her to study nursing and later to join the Red Cross service in France.
Regardless of Charlotta's openly expressed unbelief, Ruth insisted that never in her life, not even as a little girl, had she possessed a real admirer.
In compensation Ruth could only declare that if Theodosia Thompson cared to tell of her past it would form a contrast to her own humdrum tale.
It chanced that Bianca Zoli was also in the little countess's room when one evening after supper Theodosia dropped in to rest and talk before going upstairs to bed.
Her duties were over for the day and it seemed to both the other girls that she appeared tired and cross. Yet the work at the hospital at present was not severe. Most of the American soldiers, who had suffered attacks of influenza on their eastward march, were now nearly well, while a few of them had already left the hospitalat Luxemburg for one of the convalescent hospitals in southern France.
In their brief acquaintance Bianca and Charlotta had become intimate friends, for one reason because Bianca had more time to devote to her than the regular Red Cross nurses. But there was another strange bond in the difference in their temperaments, since concealment of her emotions was the habit of Bianca's life, while Charlotta apparently never concealed anything.
Yet Bianca was talking of Carlo Navara and their friendship when Theodosia interrupted her unconscious revelation of her affection for the young American soldier and singer.
"Perhaps you would rather I did not come in," Theodosia protested, standing a moment on the threshold and frowning.
Then, when both girls had insisted on her entrance, she came and sat down in a large chair with her small feet thrust under her.
Bianca was sitting on the edge of Charlotta's bed, both of them having been examining a box of jewelry which the youngcountess had demanded sent from her home earlier in the day.
The big room was very comfortable with a few pieces of old furniture which had not been removed from this chamber to give place to the regular hospital accommodations.
A shaded electric light was on a table near the bed throwing its warm lights on Bianca Zoli's fair hair and on the Countess Charlotta's black curls which she had tied with a band of bright blue velvet.
"You children look very young and very fortunate," Theodosia began, her tone a little envious.
"It must be agreeable, Countess Charlotta, not to be a Miss Nobody of Nowhere, even if you have difficulties of your own to contend with."
Theodosia made a queer little face, wrinkling her small nose, the dark light appearing in the centres of her large, pale blue eyes.
"I don't think I could make up my mind even in my present condition to marry a German nobleman, but a nobleman ofanother variety I think I would accept regardless of his age and the democratic ideas which are supposed to possess my country. As a matter of fact, I don't suppose any girls in the world ever wanted to marry into the nobility more than American girls before the war. I rather wonder if we have altogether changed. But at any rate I have nothing to offer to anybody, neither beauty, nor brains, nor money, nor family."
Then observing that both her companions appeared shocked by her pessimism Theodosia laughed, her expression changing with extraordinary swiftness.
"I wonder if you girls would like to hear a little of my history. I hope you won't be bored. After all it is only fair that we should know something of each other before we can form fair judgments. I wish I had the courage to confide in Mrs. Clark, but I don't think she likes me.
"I might as well tell the worst or the best of myself first. My mother was a dancer. I don't know much about her except that she was ill and came to a littleKentucky town to try to recover. My father was a boy, younger than she, and fell desperately in love. He married her without a cent and against the will of his older brother, a small farmer. Well, my mother died and my father died soon after when I was a few years old. Afterwards I was brought up by a very unpleasant old uncle of the story book variety, who disliked me and everything about me.
"I never had any friends except Ruth Carroll, who is an angel and has always been good to me. People in little towns are still suspicious of an ancestry like mine. I want to be a dancer myself, but I have never had the opportunity. So I studied nursing because Ruth was studying and because I wanted to help in the war and most of all, to get away from Cloverport, Kentucky.
"There is my history in a nutshell, but what is really interesting in life isn't the chapters one has already read, it is the chapters to come. I hope we may soon go on to Coblenz. I am sure we will have an interesting time there. Only of course I amsorry, Countess Charlotta, that you will not be with us."
Older than her companions, Theodosia's dramatic Irish instinct was somewhat overwhelming. Even the little Luxemburg countess felt her own story of less interest and importance by comparison.
Fortunately Theodosia had also an Irish sense of humor and observing the awestruck expressions of her companions, suddenly she laughed a gay little laugh which was one of the attractions of her odd and not always pleasing personality.
"Oh, you must not take what I have just told you too seriously. Ruth Carroll, who understands me better than any one else, says I get more pleasure than sorrow out of my queer history. As for the dancing I only wish to do folk dancing and Mrs. Clark tells me the soldiers are beginning to be interested in folk dancing as one of the methods of amusing themselves. I told her how much I was interested and she told me there might be a chance to help entertain the soldiers as well as nurse them, after the army of occupation settles downfor a long watch upon the Rhine. Goodnight," and even more quickly than she had appeared, Thea, as her friends called her, slipped out of the big chair and disappeared.
A few minutes later Bianca went her way to bed. She was wearing a small pin which the Countess Charlotta had given her, not only as a mark of her friendship, but for a secret reason which only the two girls were to know.
So it chanced that the group of Red Cross girls and the little Luxemburg countess became fairly well acquainted with each other's past histories because of the natural fondness of girls for confiding in one another. Only Nora Jamison never talked of herself, and though appearing perfectly friendly, seemed to devote all her spare time to the companionship of the little French girl, Louisa.
"Life's Little Ironies"
ONE afternoon the Countess Charlotta was alone in her room walking up and down in a restless fashion for a girl who had been so recently injured. Her forehead was still bandaged and her arm in a plaster cast, but otherwise she was apparently well. Nevertheless, she showed the results of the strain of her accident and perhaps of her personal problem.
She looked older than one would have supposed from her half-joking and half-serious conversations with Bianca Zoli and the other Red Cross girls.
In spite of her natural gayety and the warmth and color of her nature, which she had inherited from her French ancestry, the girl faced a difficult future.
All her life it seemed to her she had been in opposition to her surroundings, throwing herself powerlessly against ideas and conditionsshe could not alter. Everything that belonged to the old German order of existence she had always hated. From the time of her babyhood her father had appeared to her as a narrow tyrant insisting that she should spend her days in a routine which pleased him, without consulting either her wishes or her talents. As a matter of fact, the small countess had a will of her own and resented dictation.
Never would the little Charlotta even in her earliest youth do what might naturally have been expected of her! From the first her wilfulness, her entire lack of interest in ladylike pursuits had been a source of trouble and anxiety to her governesses.
One characteristic of the small Charlotta was that she never seemed able to remain still long enough to learn the things which were required of her. Her one desire was to be outdoors riding on horseback over the fields, or playing with the children in the village, or in the small cottages on her father's estate.
The dignity and importance of her own social position never seemed to enter Charlotta'smind, even after her family had devoted long hours to bringing the fact before her attention.
Reaching sixteen it had become her duty to play a small part in the little court of her cousin, the Grand Duchess. But although the court life was simple and far less formal than in countries of greater wealth and size than the little duchy of Luxemburg, nevertheless Charlotta found even the mild formalism irksome.
The real difficulty lay in the fact that the members of the Grand Duchess's court were Germans in thought, in ancestry and in their ideals.
Now the little Countess Charlotta faced a life when she must always remain surrounded with these same influences; influences that she hated and that had always repelled and antagonized her.
What matter if the Germans had failed in their war against freedom, if her own freedom was still denied her? Moreover, since the German failure her father appeared more than ever determined to force her marriage.
If the German nobility were in disgrace, if the men surrounding the Kaiser had fallen with their master from their high estate, at least the Count Scherin of Luxemburg was faithful to old principles. Luxemburg was a neutral state and there could be no interference with his personal ideas and designs.
Moreover, a few moments before the Countess Charlotta had received her father's ultimatum and had just concluded the reading of his note which demanded that she return home within the next thirty-six hours.
Well, she would be more sorry to say farewell to her friends than they would ever appreciate. Besides, she must go away from the Red Cross hospital without the inspiration and the aid she had hoped to receive from her contact with a group of American girls. How much she had hoped to learn from the example of their courage. Surely some of them must have broken away from family traditions in coming from their own homes into foreign lands to nurse the wounded! And she had dreamed she might learn to follow their example.
But how quiet the house seemed at present. It was strange to recall that her accident had brought her to this house where her mother had lived as a girl, a house which had been a part of her inheritance from her mother, although she had rarely been inside it.
If only one of the Red Cross girls would come and talk with her. There was so little time left when this would be possible and she so dreaded her own society. What would she do when she returned to the old narrowness of her past existence with the eternal disagreements?
Never except when she was outdoors could Charlotta endure being alone.
For the first time since her accident the little countess was almost completely dressed in a brown costume which Bianca had with great difficulty adjusted over her injured arm.
Walking to her door Charlotta opened it, glancing out into the wide hall.
If she had thought to mention it to Mrs. Clark, she would surely have gained permission to wander over this floor of hermother's former home. As a matter of fact, she had not been inside the place for a number of years, as the property she had inherited from her mother was in the hands of a business agent.
Stepping out into the wide hall Charlotta started toward the front window which overlooked the grounds. In a moment, however, she saw that the space before the window was occupied by a wheeled chair and that an American officer was seated there letting the sunlight stream over him.
Undismayed Charlotta walked forward.
"You have been ill and are better, I am glad," she said simply.
She had a curious lack of self-consciousness and a friendliness which was very charming.
The young officer attempted to rise.
"Why, yes, I am better, thank you. I have been stupidly ill from an attack of influenza just as my men were on the march toward Germany and I should have given anything in the world to have been able to go along with them. However, I must not grumble. I am right again so youneed not be afraid of me. We have been kept pretty well isolated from you. But won't you have this chair?"
The girl shook her head.
"You are very kind and you can be quite certain I am not afraid of you. Sit down again, I know you will refuse to confess it, but you do look pretty weak still. And there is nothing the matter with me. Oh, I have a few bruises and a broken arm, but after all they are not serious. I wonder now what I was actually trying to do when I flung myself off my horse. Have you ever been desperate enough not to care what happened to you?"
"But you don't mean, Countess Charlotta—"
"How do you know my name?" the girl answered quickly, as if wishing to forget what she had just confessed. "Are you not Major James Hersey, one of the youngest majors in the United States overseas service? I think I have been hearing a good deal of you from Bianca Zoli and the other Red Cross girls."
Major Jimmie Hersey colored through hispallor, according to his annoying boyish habit.
"Well, Countess Charlotta, surelyyouhave not counted on remaining a mystery—not to the American soldiers who have been ill here in your house, your guests in a fashion. We have seldom had so romantic an experience as having a countess as a patient along with the American doughboys and in the selfsame hospital. But I really can't sit here and talk to you while you stand. At least you will let me bring you a chair?"
With a good deal of satisfaction Charlotta nodded her head, her hair showing even duskier in contrast with the white bandage over her forehead.
Talking to American girls she had found extraordinarily entertaining, but to talk to a young American officer might be even more agreeable. It certainly would be a novelty, as this youthful major was the first American man with whom she had ever exchanged a word, save the two young American Red Cross physicians.
"I want to congratulate you on yourvictory," Charlotta added, when the chair had been secured and she had seated herself upon it in an entirely friendly and informal attitude. "Always my sympathies have been with the allies from the very first. You see my mother was French and I suppose I am like her. I believe French people have the love of freedom in their blood just as you Americans have."
"I say, I thought there was something unusual about you," Major Jimmie answered impetuously. "I really can't imagine your being even half German. But that is not very polite of me and anyhow your country is not German. I have been reading about Luxemburg. You were once a part of France and after the French revolution became one of the ten departments, known as the department of forests, the Forest Canton. Except for your Grand Ducal family you have never been German in sentiment."
The Countess Charlotta hummed the line of a popular version of the national anthem of Luxemburg at the present time.
"Prussians will we not become." Thenas she could not help being confidential she added:
"But suppose, suppose you were going to be forced into a German marriage, what, what would you do? I hate it, hate it, and yet—"
"Well, nothing on earth would induce me to consider it," Major Jimmie answered, his brown eyes shining and his face a deeper crimson. "You must forgive me, but you know I can't see anything straight about Germany yet and the thought of a girl like you marrying one of the brutes,—but perhaps I ought not to say anything as we are strangers and I might be tempted into saying too much."
"You could not say too much," Charlotta returned encouragingly. "I wish you would give me your advice. If I had been a boy I would have run away and fought against Germany and been killed, or if I had not been killed perhaps my family would have cast me off. I am thinking of running away anyhow, only I don't know just where to go. Do you think I could get to America without being discovered? Perhaps I mightdress as a soldier. You see I can speak English and French and German. I had to learn languages as a child even when I hated studying and now I'm glad. Then you know I can ride and shoot pretty well. I don't know why my father ever consented to have me taught, save that it amused him a little to have me show the tastes he would have liked in a son."
Major Hersey felt himself growing a little confused, as if he were losing his sense of proportion. He was not much given to reading, but he remembered two delightful romances, one "A Lady of Quality," the other "The Prisoner of Zenda." Here he was finding the two stories melting into one in the person of the girl beside him. Well the situation was surprising even a little thrilling!
Yet Major Jimmie knew what his own ideals required of him.
"I am sorry, I am afraid I don't dare offer you advice. Haven't you some woman who is your friend to whom you could appeal? There is Mrs. Clark; I have been knowing her some time when I was in campnot far from her Red Cross hospital near Château-Thierry. Why not talk to her? Still, if I were you I would not try running away, certainly not to the United States. It is pretty far and you could never make it. Excuse me, but you know it is amusing to hear you talk of dressing as a soldier. I am afraid you would not get away with the disguise five minutes. Wonder if you have half an idea what a soldier has to undergo before he can get aboard a transport for home."
The young American officer laughed and then his expression grew serious.
"Please don't say a thing like that again, even in jest and please don't even think it. I know a girl who has been brought up as you have been thinks she knows something about the world, when in reality she knows nothing, anyhow, nothing that is ugly or real. I say, here comes Mrs. Clark now, why not ask her to help you?"
At this moment Sonya Clark was advancing down the hall to escort her patient, Major James Hersey, back to his own room.
A little surprised on discovering the intimacyof the conversation, which was undoubtedly taking place between the young officer and the girl who had certainly not known each other half an hour before, Sonya stopped and looked toward them.
Then she smiled at the little picture they made together and came forward to join them.
The Talk with Sonya
"BUT, my dear child, surely you must see my position! The Red Cross unit of which I am a member has asked the hospitality of your country in order that we may care for a number of our ill soldiers until they are sufficiently recovered to be sent away. I am deeply sorry and troubled for you. But how can I show my appreciation of the courtesy—and I know our continued presence in Luxemburg has been an embarrassment—by a betrayal of confidence? It would be a betrayal if I were to aid you in getting away from your home and country without your father's knowledge. In a way it would not only be a personal discourtesy and deceit, there might even be international difficulties. You are related to the Grand Ducal family while I, well, very unimportant persons can make importantdifficulties these days! So I am afraid I must refuse what you ask. But surely if you speak plainly to your father and make him understand your feeling in the matter, he will not demand a sacrifice of your youth and happiness. Of course I don't know the laws or the customs of your country, but an enforced marriage these days appears as an impossibility."
"It is not a question of law or custom, Mrs. Clark; only in reigning families are marriages actually arranged," the Countess Charlotta answered. "Of course you know, however, that in Germany the consent of the parents to a marriage is almost essential, and my father is German born and was brought up in Germany, coming to Luxemburg when he was near middle age. But I am not trying to pretend to you that I am actually being forced into this marriage, since in the end in spite of my pretence of bravery it will be my own cowardice which will condemn me to it. I simply do not feel I can go on living at home with my father and aunt if I refuse my consent. All my life I have been a disappointment tothem and the atmosphere of our existence has been one long disagreement with antagonism between us on every possible subject. You see I have a good deal of money in my own right and the man my father wishes me to marry is an old friend of his, who has lost his fortune through the war. My father is very bitter over the result of the war, even if he may be forced to pretend otherwise. I think he wishes to give my fortune to his friend as much as he wishes to see me a proper German wife. But don't worry about me, Mrs. Clark, Idosee your point of view and am sorry to have troubled you."
It was past the usual hour of bed-time in the Red Cross hospital and Sonya had come in to talk to the young Luxemburg countess on her way to her own room.
She got up now and began walking up and down, feeling worried and uncertain. The young countess's situation, her beauty and charm, made a deep appeal and yet she was powerless to do what she asked and help her to escape from her uncongenial environment.
The girl's suggestion had been singularly childlike. She wished to be allowed to go away from Luxemburg with the Red Cross girls secretly and to remain in hiding with them.
"I am not a useful person at present," she had pleaded, "I think because I have never wished to be, but as soon as my arm is well I am sure you will find, Mrs. Clark, that I can do a good many things that might be worth while. It would not be Red Cross work perhaps, but I could help with the translating, I suppose there may be a good deal of confusion of tongues when the army of occupation reaches the Rhine."
Sonya was thinking of this speech now as she watched the shadows in the old room, lighted only by a single lamp. A curious freak of circumstance that this same room had once been the Countess Charlotta's mother's.
"Do you think I might talk to your father? Would it do the least good? I suppose he would only think me extraordinarily impertinent?" Sonya queried.
In the years of her work with the RedCross since the beginning of the war perhaps she had had a singular experience. Instead of finding as most women had, that she had given herself wholly and entirely to the needs of the soldiers, it seemed to Sonya that the greatest and most important demands upon her had been made by the Red Cross girls.
Always it was young girls who came to her with their problems, their disappointments and difficulties. And sometimes the difficulties were associated with their work, but more often with their emotions. But then it seemed that love and war had always gone hand in hand, and at least the girls she had cared for had kept themselves free from unfortunate entanglements. The soldiers they had chosen for their friends were fine and generous. But with the little Luxemburg countess, Sonya felt it might be difficult to guess what her future might hold. She was wilful, beautiful and unhappy, with perhaps but few congenial friends among her former associates.
At this instant the Countess Charlotta shook her head, smiling.
"No, I don't think it would do any good for you to talk to my father, Mrs. Clark. As a matter of fact, it would make things more difficult for me to have him discover I have discussed my private affairs with a comparative stranger. I shall probably say goodby to you tomorrow and go back home, but I want you to realize, Mrs. Clark, how much I have appreciated everybody's kindness to me here and how much I like and admire American girls. Indeed, I would not have added to your work if I had not been so anxious for their acquaintance. You will soon be going away from Luxemburg to join the American Army of Occupation on the Rhine. May I wish you all good fortune?"
The little countess held out her hand and Sonya took it in her own for a moment and then leaned over and kissed her.
"May I write you after we go away and tell you where we are to be stationed? Surely there could be no objection to this. And, my dear, some day I may be able to prove myself your friend, even if I am forced to seem unfriendly now. Goodnight."
And Sonya went away, curiously depressed.
In a few days the temporary Red Cross hospital in Luxemburg would close and she would probably never see the little Countess Charlotta again. The soldiers who had been ill were now sufficiently recovered either to rejoin their regiments, by this time approaching the German frontier, or else to return to convalescent hospitals in France.
The reigning family of the little duchy of Luxemburg had been courteous but none too friendly, and personally Sonya was anxious to rejoin her husband and the remainder of their Red Cross unit and to find themselves established with the American Army of Occupation.
Gossip in Luxemburg at the present time insisted that the Grand Duchess Marie Adelaide would probably be deposed and her sister invited to reign in her place. Sonya was hoping to be away from the duchy before this occurred, and as this did not actually take place until early in January and it was now December, theAmerican Red Cross unit had not to meet this political change.
Left to herself the little Countess Charlotta did not go immediately to bed, although Bianca Zoli had helped her to undress some time before and she now wore only her rose-colored velvet dressing gown over her night gown.
Until it was midnight and the big house had grown quiet she sat alone. Her future was at present no clearer before her than upon the day when in a spirit of utter recklessness and foolhardiness she had deliberately flung herself from her horse. Yet at least she would never be so stupid again or perhaps so wicked!
Finally getting up she lighted a candle and wandered first about the old room and then out into the wide hall.
She had an idea of going to Bianca Zoli's room and of asking Bianca if it were possible that she could make her a gift, an unusual gift perhaps. The little countess desired one of Bianca's cast-off Red Cross uniforms.
But then Bianca did not sleep alone and would certainly be startled by such an extraordinary request.
Moreover, Charlotta would have no reasonable explanation to offer for her request not being entirely clear in her own mind as to why she desired this possession.
Later she tiptoed back into her own room and climbed into bed.
Next day probably she would make her singular demand. If she had no such opportunity at some time, when the American Red Cross had departed from Luxemburg, she would come back to her own house, since there she might find what she wished.
If it became necessary and she did finally decide to leave home she would require some disguise which her friends might unwittingly leave behind them.
The Journey to Coblenz
"I WANT a doughboy and not an officer to be first across that bridge."
This command from an American officer was issued one morning in December, just as the sun broke through the grey mist. A little later, the American Army of Occupation, which had been led to victory by General Pershing, crossed the Moselle river. Beyond lay Germany.
There was no loud cheering, no blare of bands, or signs of the conquering hero, when the American soldiers set foot on the land they had crossed the ocean to conquer, only before their eyes floating in the morning breeze were the stars and stripes.
The advanced guard continued the ascent over winding roads and past villages onward toward the Rhine. First marched the infantry, then followed the artillery, engineers, signal battalions and last thehospital units. And accompanying one of the final units was Sonya Clark and her Red Cross group.
Never were any of them to forget their journey into the city of Coblenz, which, situated midway between Mayence and Cologne, just where the Moselle flows into the Rhine, was to form the chief city for the American Army of Occupation.
As a matter of fact Sonya and her Red Cross unit had not dreamed of being able to form a part of the army on their first approach to the Rhine, believing that the time spent by them in Luxemburg would delay them too seriously. But, because the German army was slower in accomplishing its retreat than had been anticipated, the Third American Army did not draw near the city of Coblenz until the close of the second week of December.
It was Sunday when they started their victorious march from the French country, it was Sunday when they entered the valley of the Rhine.
Every acre of the valley appeared to be under cultivation; there were fields of winterwheat and walled vineyards lining the roads. Beyond, the hills were covered with dense forests, farther on were the tall summits of the ancient castles of the Rhine.
Varying impressions the journey into Germany made upon this particular group of American girls.
"I declare it is unendurable to me to see how prosperous and peaceful the German county appears in comparison with the French!" Nona Davis exclaimed, staring out of the window of their Red Cross automobile, as their car drove through one of the small towns not far from the larger city.
Not many grown persons were in sight, but children were swarming everywhere and blonde heads were sticking out of the windows of nearly all the little houses along the road.
"I don't think the children look nearly as hungry as we had been led to expect," she added with a bitterness of tone unlike Nona's usual attitude of mind. But then she had been nursing in Europe for four years, since the very outbreak of the warand had been an eyewitness to untold suffering and privation.
"I don't think I would be resentful about the German children, Miss Davis," Nora Jamison argued unexpectedly, as she rarely took part in any general conversation among the Red Cross girls.
Nona glanced in her direction. Sitting next Nora was the little French girl, Louisa, who had been in her care ever since their withdrawal from France. There had been no one along the way to whom they could entrust the child.
In the little French girl's expression at the moment there was something which seemed to Nona to justify her point of view. Her face was white and her lips trembling as she too gazed out at the little German village.
At the instant she had beheld a former German soldier walking along one of the streets. On his head was a round civilian cap and he had on a pair of civilian trousers, the rest of his costume was an old German uniform. And it was the sight of the uniform which had brought the terror to the child's face.
Sonya saw the look and understood it at the same moment. In order that there might be no further argument she said gently:
"Girls, I don't often preach, but perhaps I shall make the effort now. We are going into an extraordinary new experience for which I sometimes wonder if we are either mentally or spiritually prepared. During the past four years we have felt an intense bitterness against everything German; they represented for us all the forces of evil against which we were fighting. Now we are going to live among them and I suppose must not feel the same degree of hatred. Yet it will be difficult to change, impossible at first. I think it may be a number of years before we can learn to accept them as our friends. And yet I do not wish any of us to stir up fresh antagonism. One has always heard that the soldiers who have done the actual fighting have never the same hatred toward each other as the noncombatants, and perhaps we Red Cross workers stand somewhere in between the two. And yet Germany has only herselfto thank that she has earned the distrust of the civilized world!"
As no one replied, after remaining silent a moment, Sonya went on: "You know our soldiers have been given the order that they are to be as polite as possible and not to make trouble, but also they are not to fraternize with the Germans, even if living in their homes. I think the same order holds good with us."
At this instant Bianca Zoli who had appeared to be almost asleep opened her eyes and yawned.
"But I thought fraternizing meant becoming like brothers," she remarked irritably. "I don't see how there is any danger of our becoming too brotherly with the Germans, Sonya."
The laugh at Bianca's speech, although annoying to her, helped to clear the atmosphere.
In truth at the time the Red Cross girls were weary and anxious to reach the end of their journey, in order that they might establish their Red Cross headquarters.
Bianca was in a particularly discouragedframe of mind. She was distinctly grieved at saying goodby to the little Luxemburg countess, whom she happened to have liked more than any girl she had ever known; she also cherished a grievance against Sonya Clark, because Sonya had refused to consent to bring Charlotta away with them secretly.
Moreover, Bianca was anxious to have some word of Carlo Navara. Not a line, no news of any kind had she been able to receive since Carlo's regiment began its march toward the Rhine. And Bianca had never a very comfortable sense of Carlo's enduring friendship. It was only when she had been able to help Carlo in the past that he had seemed especially fond of her. She did not blame him particularly; he was a good deal olderthanshe was, and his gift of a wonderful voice made other people spoil him, beside adding to his own vanity. He had once thought he would always care more for Sonya Clark than any one in the world, but Bianca had seen in the last weeks they were together in the hospital near Château-Thierry that Carlo wasbecoming far more reasonable upon this subject.
Sonya's marriage had of course made all the difference, although in his absurd fashion Carlo had protested that it could never alter his affection.
With a little sigh, Bianca now made an effort to go to sleep again.
She was not in the least interested in continuing to stare out the car window as the other girls were. She had been doing nothing else for days.
Whether she slept or not, Bianca did not realize. But suddenly she heard Sonya murmur.
"Don't go to sleep again, Bianca dear. We are just about to enter Coblenz and I want you to remember it all your life. See it is a splendid, prosperous city along the bank of the Rhine."
But Bianca would not rouse herself until their automobile had entered the centre of the city and gone by the Coblenzhof, one of the finest hotels in the city, and then past the mammoth statue of Wilhelm I the grandfather of the deposed Kaiser.
Then Bianca decided to display a mild interest in her surroundings.
Coblenz is known as one of the most beautiful cities in the world and the German defeat had dimmed none of its outward glory.
Finally the Red Cross automobile drove to the outskirts of the city and entered a large court yard. On a hill beyond the courtyard rose an old castle which was to be the new American Red Cross hospital.
The building itself was grim and forbidding with its square, serrated towers and heavy, dark stone walls.
Bianca gave an instinctive shiver.
"The castle looks more like a dungeon than a hospital," she whispered to Sonya, "I wish they had given us a more cheerful place for our headquarters. Perhaps our soldiers will not mind, but I should hate to be ill in such a dismal place. Yes, I know the outlook over the Rhine is magnificent but just the same it depresses me."
Then Bianca's manner and expression changed.
Standing in the yard before the castlewere a group of their friends waiting to receive them.
Dr. Clark had arrived in Coblenz a number of hours before his wife and had already taken command of the new Red Cross hospital for American soldiers. He and his wife had not seen each other in nearly a month, as they had made the journey to the Rhine with different portions of the army.
With Dr. Clark were other members of his Red Cross staff and several representatives of the German Red Cross, who were to turn over certain supplies.
Unexpectedly a private soldier formed one of the group, who must have received permission from his superior officer to share in the welcome to his friends.
The young man was Carlo Navara.
Bianca extended her hand like a child for Carlo to assist her out of the car.
"I was never so glad to see you before," she announced. "I don't care what the other Red Cross girls may say, but I have found the journey to the Rhine since we left Luxemburg extremely tiresome."