dream that these devastated fields of
France are soon to become green and fruitful again? Having lost
everything in the early days of the German invasion, my family, home, my
small fortune, nevertheless I rejoice that for other French soldiers
there may be a happier future when they return to their former homes,
thanks to the great hearts of the American people!"

The young officer's deep feeling and his quiet self-contained manner
caused a lump to rise in Miss Patricia's throat and a mist before her
eyes. Therefore her manner became more belligerent than ever.

"Here, sit down and drink this," she commanded. "I suppose you consider
that you have entirely recovered your strength and that I am the veriest
old termagant not to permit you to enjoy your convalescence with a group
of more or less charming American girls. But as a matter of fact I am
really protecting you as well as the girls. We have lived without
masculine society, unless you wish to count old Jean, ever since our
arrival at the farm house. So whatever your impression, I am afraid you
would soon be overpowered with attention once I allowed you to leave
this room."

Lieutenant Fleury finished his bouillon with a proper degree of
gratitude and enthusiasm before replying.

Afterwards he gazed at Miss Patricia for several moments in silence as
if carefully considering a number of important matters.

The young French officer was of more than medium height, had dark eyes
and hair, and except when he was talking, his expression was grave and
sad. His arm remained bandaged.

"Miss Patricia, I do not wish to meet _all_ your Camp Fire girls. I
agree with you I am not strong enough to make myself agreeable to them.
But I do wish to see _one_ of them again. You are aware that I mean
Miss Ashton. If ever a man had cause to be grateful to a girl-----"

"Nonsense!" Miss Patricia interrupted, picking up the empty cup as if
she were intending to leave the room immediately. "Sally was a goose and
ran the risk of being the death of you instead of saving your life as
you like to think. Besides, she has not the slightest desire to see you;
she told me this herself. She feels now that she was ridiculous. She
should never have paid any attention to the disjointed tale of an ill
man, or to the promise which you seem to have exacted of the poor child
in your original interview. As for being grateful to Sally, that is also
a waste of energy when you have none too much to spar