“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 scrap 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 embarrassed 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 Dicky’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.