Part 152

"If I set up my easel will you let me have a try at you?" he asked.

"Yes, but you've had no luncheon. I'll bring you something, and you can arrange your canvas while I'm gone."

But they found Sister Eila had arranged for him to lunch with Gray, so he sat with that battered and patient Englishman, chatting, watching the troops in the valley from the open window, and lunching comfortably.

Sister Eila glanced in, smiled, then went lightly away toward the eastern wing of the house, where fresh consignments of bandages were to be sterilized and stored in Red Cross boxes--gauze rolls, plugs for bullet wounds, body bandages, fracture bandages, arm slings, rolls of unbleached muslin, of cotton, of gauze.

As she passed the open door of the chapel, she halted, faced the altar and made her reverence. Then, crossing herself, she rose erect, turned to continue her way, and encountered Halkett face to face.

A bright flush leaped to her cheeks; his own face reddened to his hair under the bronze coat of tan.

"I am so glad to see you," she said steadily, offering her hand. "We heard you were in Sais with your aeroplane. How did you happen to come into the east wing? It must have been closed when you were here before?"

"I have never before been in this house. I saw you cross the court as I mounted the terrace steps." He tried to ease the constraint in his voice. "I wanted to speak to you--first of anybody--in Sais.... Are you well?"

"Perfectly. And you, Captain Halkett?"

"You seem thinner. You do not spare yourself."

"We scarcely have time to think of ourselves," she said, smiling. "I am trying to fit up a little hospital here; Madame de Moidrey offers the house."

"I understand that my friend, Captain Gray, is here?"

"Poor boy! I must not detain you any longer. You will desire to pay your respects to Madame de Moidrey and her sister and to the beautiful Miss Wildresse----"

"Philippa! Here?"

"You know her? Is she not lovely? I find her charming. And--so should all young men," she added with a little laugh. "Therefore--I shall no longer detain you, Captain Halkett----"

"May I--hope to see you again?"

"I hope so, indeed," she replied cheerfully. "Do you remain for a while in Sais?"

"For a while, I think."

There fell a silence, which became a little strained. Sister Eila looked up at him from lowered eyes; then her face went white and she laid her hand flat against the chapel wall beside her, as though for support.

"Then--if I may hope to see you again--inspect your hospital, perhaps----"

She nodded, still leaning on the chapel wall.

So he went away swiftly, very straight in his field uniform, and she saw him cross the court, head erect, looking directly before him as though he saw nothing.

An immense fatigue seemed to weight her; still supporting herself against the wall, she turned and looked at the chapel door. Even on that grey day the light within was golden from the old glass.

Into that mellow stillness crept Sister Eila, her young head drooping, the metal crucifix swinging at her girdle from its rosary of wooden beads.

The painted saints stared at her; the painted angels all stood watching her; the Mother of God looked out from the manger, brooding, preoccupied, wonder-eyed; but the Child at her breast was smiling.

Then down on her knees fell Sister Eila; her slim hands clasped, clung, tightened, parted, and covered her face convulsively.

Very far away in the valley a trumpet spoke.

*CHAPTER XXXII*