The girls had been talking over certain details in connection with the management of Eugenia's establishment. She found it extremely difficult to buy provisions. But neither one of them was giving thought to what she said.

It was Eugenia, however, who offered the interruption.

"Please let's don't talk about things that are of no importance, Bab, when I see you so seldom," she protested. "Tell me, please, about Dick Thornton and Mildred and Nona. Dick and Nona were out here a few moments the other day, but I had no chance to have any conversation with them. I thought they both looked extraordinarily well to be working so hard. I never believed Nona as strong as you, Barbara, so why do you seem so used up? Is your work at the hospital more difficult than hers?"

"Certainly not," the other girl answered. "Really, Eugenia, I don't think it kind of you, or of other people, to keep on telling me I don't look well. I have assured you a dozen times I am all right. If you continue suggesting the other thing I shall probably fall ill. But Nona and Dick do seem well and cheerful, and so is Mildred for that matter. I think it is because they are all very happy over something. No one has spoken of it to me so I am only guessing. But it is true, isn't it, Eugenia, that if one is happy oneself, it is not hard to bear the sufferings of other people? Yet it seems to me that Belgium is scarcely the place to make one cheerful."

Instead of replying Eugenia laughed. The cynicism in Barbara's tone was so unlike her. Yet one could realize that she did not mean to be disagreeable. Really she was confused and needed information.

"Oh, I suppose one's own happiness is of chief importance," Eugenia finally returned. "It isn't human to expect people to be utterly wretched over others' sorrows. One can be sympathetic, of course, and depressed now and then, but that is about all."

Then they walked on a few yards in silence before the older girl added:

"Are you speaking of the same thing, Bab, that we discussed one night in the moonlight a good many weeks ago? I believe it was the first evening after Dick Thornton arrived in Brussels? Because if you are, I still don't agree with you. Of course, I have been separated from the rest of you most of the time lately, yet I don't think I am mistaken. What makes you believe as you do, Barbara?"

The older girl put this question in as careless a tone as possible. Then, although she and her companion were walking arm in arm, she did not glance toward her. She did not even try to get an impression of her expression in the moonlight.

Barbara shrugged her shoulders. "There are many signs, Eugenia, and they cannot always be defined. But I don't think you would ever see or understand them."

The slighting emphasis upon the pronoun was unmistakable; nevertheless, Eugenia only smiled. Once Barbara's point of view might have hurt her, but tonight she was not thinking of herself. She had something else upon her mind, but was uncertain whether it would be wise to discuss the subject, or leave it still in darkness.

"Well, perhaps you are right, Barbara," she admitted. "I had a note from Nona yesterday, but she made no reference to Dick. She wanted me to ask you a question for her, which perhaps neither of us has the right to ask. I don't know, it has worried me a good deal——"

She stopped because Barbara had turned in the path and was facing her half belligerently and half affectionately.

"Don't be a goose, Eugenia, ask me anything you like. Certainly I have bored you enough recently with my bad tempers and complaints to have you say whatever you wish to me. It's funny, Eugenia, but when we started for Europe I was sure I was going to like you less than any one of the girls. Now you are the only one I care very much about."

With this Barbara laughed, pretending that she was not altogether in earnest. But there was no humor in her laughter.

Eugenia received her information gravely.

"That may be good of you, dear, but I don't believe you," she returned. "Still I am glad you made the remark just at this minute. It helps me with what I wish to say to you. Nona wanted me to find out what it was that had changed your feeling for her. She says she has done her best to discover for herself and has asked you to tell her, but without success. She seems much distressed and is anxious to make amends if she has injured you."

The older girl had to cease talking because Barbara had pulled away and was walking on ahead without pretending to answer.

She was being rude and was aware of it. But it was better to be rude than to have any human being discover how crimson her face had become and how her lips were trembling. Eugenia's question had taken her so by surprise. Several weeks before she had gone through much the same kind of conversation with Nona and Mildred. But the subject had never been mentioned again and she hoped was happily over. It was too stupid to have Nona go on dwelling upon the matter in this way and utterly pointless. She had told her that she had nothing in the world against her. Surely one had the right to one's likes and dislikes!

Quietly Eugenia continued after her guest. She made no effort to stop her, although she realized that they were walking farther than they had intended.

Finally Barbara must have appreciated the fact, because she stopped and turned around.

"Let's go back home, I am dead tired," she murmured.

Of course Eugenia complied, and they continued in single file on the return journey.

Walking alone, Barbara once or twice thought that she heard some one tramping about in the underbrush not far away. But although she glanced over in that direction she saw no one.

After five minutes more of silence Barbara caught up with Eugenia, who was in the lead on the way home.

"Can we stop a minute somewhere, Gene, before we get back to the house? I have something I want to tell you. I believe I'll feel relieved once I have made a plain statement of a fact to myself as well as to you. And it will be easier to say it out here in the moonlight than in the light of day."

This time it was the older girl who hesitated.

"You said you were tired, Bab, and it is getting late. Besides, I am not sure it is wise for us to be so far from the house alone." She turned her head uneasily toward the left side of the woods. It was on the same side that Barbara had believed she heard a noise. But at present she was paying no attention.

"Please do as I ask you; a few minutes more cannot make any difference."

Then, just as they had two months before, the girls found a fallen tree and seated themselves on the trunk. But Barbara turned around so that she could look directly at her companion. A shaft of light shone straight across her face. Eugenia could see that the characteristic little frown was there as well as the slight wrinkling of the short, straight nose. Also that Barbara's eyes were serious, although the expression of her mouth was partly humorous. She looked very young and charming. Perhaps she was not so beautiful as many other girls. Yet she had a kind of mocking grace, an evanescent, will o' the wisp quality that was more fascinating than ordinary beauty. Then beside this, she was so thoroughly human.

"Yes, I have a grievance against Nona, a perfectly dreadful one. When I told her I didn't have, I just lied," she began directly. "Fact of the matter is, I can't forgive Nona for being more attractive than I am. I can't tell her this to her face though, can I, Eugenia? Nor can I see exactly how I can let you tell her."

Barbara clasped her hands together. They felt very warm, although the evening was cool. But then her cheeks were even hotter. Nevertheless, a smile at herself, perhaps the best smile there is in the world, flickered around the corners of Barbara's mouth.

"I know perfectly well what you are thinking, Eugenia. Nona has not changed recently. If I cannot like her now because she is prettier and more charming than I am, then why did I like her at the beginning of our acquaintance? She was both those things then. But the fact is, I didn't care then, because, because—Oh, why is it so hard to get it out, Gene? I don't see why girls need always be ashamed of caring for people who don't care for them? I didn't know at first how much Dick Thornton was going to be interested in Nona Davis, nor how much I cared for Dick. There, the worst is out and I am glad of it!"

Then Barbara dropped her chin into her hands and sat staring at the moon up over the top of the trees, waiting for her companion to answer. Eugenia remained silent.

"Are you disgusted with me, Gene?" the younger girl asked the next moment. "Goodness knows, I have been with myself, though I never confessed the truth to any one, not even to Barbara Meade, until this second. I haven't any right in the world to like Dick except as a friend. He has always been only ordinarily nice and polite to me. I really never thought of him seriously until after we left Paris. Then when I found out he was writing to Nona and never to me, I was terribly hurt. I had believed we were better friends than he and Nona. At first I didn't see why I should mind so much, then by degrees I suppose I began to find out. Anyhow, the only reason I have for not liking Nona at present is jealousy. It is about the ugliest fault there is, so I'm not very proud of myself. But as I intend to make a clean breast of the subject tonight and then never mention it again, you might as well hear the rest. I don't like Mildred so much as I used to, because she evidently prefers to have Nona for Dick's friend than to have me. And there are times when I'd like to pinch her."

It was so absurd of Barbara to end her confession with this anti-climax. Yet the older girl was not deceived. Because she endeavored to make fun of herself and of the situation, she was no less in earnest.

"Why don't you say something, Gene?" she pleaded the next instant. "What shall I do? Am I ever going to be sensible again?"

Perhaps it was because Eugenia had been devoting herself to caring for children for the past two months, or perhaps it was because she had so strongly the mother feeling. For at this moment she wanted to take Barbara in her arms. Really, there was not very much for her to say under the circumstances. Should she insist that Dick was not in love with Nona when she knew absolutely nothing about it? This would, only make things harder for the other girl in the end. Barbara was not a foolish, sentimental person; she was usually clear-sighted, with sound common sense. Of course, she would stop caring for Dick Thornton after a time if he felt no affection for her. But how convince her of this at the present moment?

"I had been fearing something like this, Barbara," Eugenia said finally. "I don't mean in connection with Nona. I never dreamed of her entering into the situation. Dick is a splendid fellow, but after all he has only one arm. Besides, I don't think Judge Thornton is really wealthy. They spend a great deal of money. I know from all I have heard that Judge Thornton makes a great deal, but that Mrs. Thornton is very extravagant and very ambitious."

Barbara got up. "Let's go to bed, Gene dear. Of course, nothing you can say will make any difference. But I promise to turn over a new leaf. Away with all human weakness!"

Barbara started to wave her hand, but instead clutched at Eugenia's arm frantically.

"Great heavens, who was that, Gene?" she whispered. "I am sure I saw some one sliding along between the trees. He was crouched over as if he feared we might see him."

Eugenia took the younger girl's arm. "It was no one, my dear. But remember, this is a haunted house and a ghost is supposed to wander all over the estate. Keep hold of my hand and we'll run to the house. Perhaps we may get there before the ghost does."