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her invitation. However, Nona recalled her meeting in the old rose garden near the gardener's cottage with Lieutenant Robert Hume. She also thought of Lieutenant Hume's last letter telling her that he had been sent back to England as an exchanged prisoner because of his health. But when Nona inquired for the young English lieutenant, the Countess' expression checked further curiosity. Suddenly she appeared very unhappy and distressed. "Robert is not in England," she said hastily. "He has been sent away to try to recover, but we do not dare hope too much." At the moment Nona did not feel that she had the courage to ask where the young man had gone nor from what he was trying to recover. Actually it was one afternoon in late February, when the three Red Cross girls and Sonya came at last to the village of Le Pretre, near the forest of the same name. There they found old Francois awaiting them in a carriage that must have belonged to the Second Empire. It was toward twilight and on a February afternoon, yet after the cold of the northern countries where the girls had been for the past winter, the atmosphere had the appeal of spring. It was not warm, yet there was a gentleness in the air and a suggestion of green on the bare branches of the trees. Francois drove them in state to the little "Farmhouse with the Blue Front Door." But this afternoon the door was standing open and on the threshold was Madame, the Countess, with both white hands extended in welcome. She wore the same black dress and the same point of lace over her white hair. And by her side stood Monsieur Le Duc, more solemn and splendid than ever and as gravely welcoming of his guests as the Countess herself. Madame explained that Eugenia had been unable to leave the hospital to be at home to greet her friends, but hoped to see them in a few days. In the meantime they were to feel more than welcome in the farmhouse and in the old chateau, when they cared to come to her there. Then the Countess said good-by and allowed Francois to take her home. She knew that her guests were weary and her courtesy was too perfect to permit herself the privilege of a longer conversation, no matter how much she might be yearning for companionship. The little house itself was warm and light with welcome. There was a fire in the living room and the four beds upstairs smelled of lavender and roses. The girls took their old rooms, except that Sonya was allotte
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