"He was a Belgian, madam. He was seriously wounded at the commencement of the war. We took him direct from the hospital.""I hope the poor fellow will soon recover," Lady Anselman declared. "Please do not think anything more of the affair so far as we are concerned. You must let me know later on how he is."The maitre d'hotel retreated with a little bow. Geraldine turned to Captain Granet.
"I think," she said, "that you must be very kind-hearted, for a soldier."He turned and looked at her.
"Why?"
"You must have been so many horrible sights--so many dead people, and yet--""Well?" he persisted.
"There was something in your face when the man staggered back, a kind of horror almost. I am sure you felt it quite as much as any of us."He was silent for a moment.
"In a battlefield," he observed slowly, "one naturally becomes a little callous, but here it is different. The fellow did look ghastly ill, didn't he? I wonder what was really the matter with him.""We shall know when Major Thomson returns," she said.
Granet seemed scarcely to hear her words. A curious fit of abstraction had seized him. His head was turned towards the corridor, he seemed to be waiting.
"Queer sort of stick, Thomson," he remarked presently. "Is he a great friend of yours, Miss Conyers?"She hesitated for a moment.
"I have known him for some time."
Something in her tone seemed to disturb him. He leaned towards her quickly.
His face had lost its good-humoured indifference. He was evidently very much in earnest.
"Please don't think me impertinent," he begged, "but--is he a very great friend?"She did not answer. She was looking over his shoulder towards where Major Thomson, who had just returned, was answering a little stream of questions.
"The man is in a shockingly weak state," he announced. "He is a Belgian, has been wounded and evidently subjected to great privations. His heart is very much weakened. He had a bad fainting fit, but with a long rest he may recover."The little party broke up once more into groups. Granet, who had drawn for a moment apart and seemed to be adjusting the knots of his sling, turned to Thomson.
"Has he recovered consciousness yet?" he asked.
"Barely," was the terse reply.
"There was no special cause for his going off like that, I suppose?"Surgeon-Major Thomson's silence was scarcely a hesitation. He was standing perfectly still, his eyes fixed upon the young soldier.
"At present," he said, "I am not quite clear about that. If you are ready, Geraldine?"She nodded and they made their farewells to Lady Anselman. Granet looked after them with a slight frown. He drew his aunt on one side for a moment.
"Why is Miss Conyers here without a chaperon?" he asked. "And why did she go away with Thomson?"Lady Anselman laughed.
"Didn't she tell you?"
"Tell me what?" he insisted eagerly.
Lady Anselman looked at her nephew curiously.
"Evidently," she remarked, "your progress with the young lady was not so rapid as it seemed, or she would have told you her secret--which, by-the-bye, isn't a secret at all. She and Major Thomson are engaged to be married."
