--scrubbin' floors, runnin' messages, but Miss Vincent,
she mostly drives a car."

While the sergeant was dilating upon the virtues and excellences of the
young V. A. D., his men ran out her car, and packed into it the biscuit
tins and coffee. By the time the sergeant was ready she was back,
dressed in a chauffeur's uniform.

Barry had thought her charming in her V. A. D. dress, but in her uniform
she was bewitching. He noticed that her hair clustered in tiny ringlets
about her natty little cap, in quite a maddening way. One vagrant curl
over her ear had a particular fascination for his eyes. He felt it ought
to be tucked in just a shade. He was conscious of an almost irresistible
desire to do the tucking in. What would happen if--

"Well, are you ready?" inquired the girl in a quick, businesslike tone.

"What? Oh, yes," said Barry, recalled to the business of the moment.

During the drive the girl gave her whole attention to her wheel, as
indeed was necessary, for the road was dangerously slippery, and she
drove without lights through the black night. Barry kept up an endless
stream of talk, set going by her command, as she took her place at the
wheel. "Now tell me about Canada. I can listen, but I can't talk."

In the full tide of his most eloquent passages, Barry found himself
growing incoherent at times, for his mind was in a state of oscillation
between the wonderful and lustrous qualities of the brown eyes that
he remembered flashing upon him in the light of the fire, and that
maddening little curl over the girl's ear.

In an unbelievably short time, so it seemed to him, they came upon the
rear of a marching column.

"These are your men, I fancy," she said, "and this will be your camp on
the left; I know it well. I've often been here."

She swung the car off the road into an open field, set out with tents,
and brought the car to a stop beside an old ruined factory.

"This, I believe, will be the best place for your purpose," she said,
and sprang from her seat, and ran to the ruin, flashing her torchlight
before her. "Here you are," she said. "This will be just the thing."

Barry followed her a few steps down into the long, stone-flagged cellar.

"Splendid! This is the very thing," he cried enthusiastically. "You are
really the most wonderful person."

"Now get your stuff in here," she ordered. "But what will you do for
wood? There is always water," she added, "in some tanks further on.
Come, I'll sho