Dick Thornton had taken lodgings in an old house in Brussels in a once fashionable quarter of the city. He had a big reception room and a small room adjoining. Recently Nona and Mildred had been coming in to have tea with him on their afternoons of leisure. They even dropped in occasionally in their daily walks. For in order to keep their health and spirits each Red Cross nurse, following the familiar rule, was given two hours off duty every afternoon.

But Barbara Meade had never seen the quarters where Dick lived. Always she had pleaded some kind of an excuse in answer to his invitations, until finally he had proffered them no more. Then for the past month she had been taking Eugenia's place in her house in the woods.

But this afternoon Barbara had made an appointment to meet Nona and Mildred at Dick's at four o'clock.

Half an hour before the time, Dick came into the house with his arms full of flowers which he had purchased from a little old woman at the corner. She had become a great friend of his, for the flower business was a poor one in a city where people had no money even for food. So today Dick had purchased bunches of wall flowers and others of columbine and larkspur. For the flowers grew in the old woman's own garden within a sheltered suburb of Brussels. She must have grown them and sold them in order that she might still continue to sit in the same place. For so far as one could know she had no other reason for her industry. She appeared to be entirely alone and friendless.

Dick's sitting room was enormous, yet almost empty. The house had been deserted by its owners early in the war. They had then removed most of their belongings to London for safe keeping, soon after hostilities broke out.

But Dick opened wide a pair of French windows until the atmosphere of the room had grown cool and sweet. He then arranged his own flowers and set out his own tea table in a somewhat clumsy fashion, drawing four chairs conveniently near. They were the only four chairs in the room and very different in character. Two of them were enormous armchairs upholstered in Brussels tapestry, the other were two small wooden ones which had probably served for the servant's dining room.

But Dick was fairly well satisfied with the appearance of things, since empty grandeur is much more satisfying than tawdry quantity.

Afterwards Dick disappeared to make an afternoon toilet.

It had been such ages since he had worn anything but the most workaday clothes. Now and then when he came in tired at night and discouraged with life from the sight of so much unnecessary sorrow, he used to slip into a smoking jacket for an hour or so. Usually several American fellows dropped in later, young doctors or other men assisting with the Belgian relief work.

But today Dick felt the occasion to be a more important one.

Barbara was coming on an errand of grave importance. Yet one might as well meet the situation as cheerfully as possible. Nothing was ever to be gained by unnecessary gloom.

It still remained a task for Dick to dress himself with one of his arms almost useless. At first it had been impossible and he had employed a man to help him. But men were needed for more strenuous labors these days than being another fellow's valet. So he had come to taking care of himself in a somewhat awkward fashion. The collar was his supreme difficulty, just as it frequently is with a man with two perfectly good arms.

Today, of course, because Dick was in a hurry, his collar behaved in a worse manner than usual. The collar button had to be searched for under the bed for nearly five minutes, and then it did not seem to fit the button-hole of the shirt.

Finally Dick sat down and began to smoke in an effort to soothe his nerves. Mildred had promised to come along ahead of time to do whatever was needed. As there was nothing more, except to adjust his tiresome neckwear, he might as well wait in peace.

But in the meantime Dick read over the note from Barbara in which she asked that the four of them might meet at his apartment. It was the one place where it was possible that their conversation be absolutely private. And what they had to discuss was a matter for gravest secrecy.

Although Dick had previously arranged his hair with much care, while reading the note he thrust his hand through it until his locks rose in brown, Byronic confusion.

So when the first knock came at his sitting room door, convinced of his sister's arrival, Dick strode to it, dangling his collar in his hand.

His appearance was not strictly conventional.

The girl at the door looked a little startled, then smiled and walked into the room without invitation.

"I suppose I am first. I didn't mean to be," she explained. "But Dr. Mason came out to see one of the children and brought me back to town in the hospital motor car. So I got here sooner than I expected."

"I am sorry. I thought you were Mildred. I mean, I hoped you were Mildred." Dick laughed. "Sounds polite, doesn't it, what I am trying to say? But the fact is, if you'll just take off your hat or your wrap, or your gloves, why, I'll disappear for half a minute and come back with a collar on."

Barbara nodded and her reluctant host disappeared.

She was glad of a few moments to look around. It was almost homelike here in Dick's quarters, and not since leaving the little "Farmhouse with the Blue Front Door" had she enjoyed the sensation of home.

She certainly did not enjoy it at Eugenia's big house, although she was now in full charge of the establishment. For there was always the sense of Eugenia's loss and of the privations which she was enduring.

Barbara did throw her hat to one side and her coat and gloves. The freedom was pleasanter. Then, since small persons have a penchant for large chairs and large persons for small ones, Barbara seated herself in the most imposing chair in the room.

Not thinking of where she was, nor of what she was doing, she slipped one small foot under her, leaned her head against the upholstery and gazed critically around.

They were going to have tea and she was glad of it. Then she loved the presence of so many simple outdoor flowers. Probably they had been purchased for Nona's delectation, yet one could enjoy them just the same.

Besides, Barbara was by this time convinced that she had entirely recovered from any jealousy where Nona and Dick were concerned. She had seen them very seldom in the past month. But this was not because she had any more feeling in regard to the situation. It was merely because she had more important matters to engage her attention. Her talk with Eugenia seemed to have cleared the emotional situation so far as she was concerned. Now her interest in Dick and Nona was purely impersonal and friendly.

Yet Barbara got up and strolled over to the tall French mantel. Yes, there was a picture of Nona on it. She had not been mistaken. Certainly Nona took an extremely pretty picture. Her features were so regular and delicate. It was rather different if one chanced to be afflicted with a retroussÉ nose.

Still studying Nona's photograph, Barbara heard a slight noise behind her.

There was Dick with his collar yet dangling from his hand.

"I say, which would you prefer, to talk to a man without a collar or to help him put one on? I am not going to lose all the chance I may have for seeing you in struggling with this dog-taked thing."

The girl looked demure. Then she indicated that Dick might seat himself upon the lowest stool. The next moment he was entirely ship-shape, as Barbara had also assisted in adjusting a new dark-red tie. It was of a flowing character, because Dick wore the same black velvet coat in which he had appeared before Barbara in New York City some eighteen months before. The coat was therefore not new. But Dick may have had a suspicion that it was becoming, although men are not supposed to be interested in any such trivial concerns.

However, Barbara was aware of the becomingness and was sincerely glad to discover how well her former friend looked. Certainly he had taken his share of the war's misfortunes in a courageous spirit. Once she had not believed him capable of any ideal save a social one.

Barbara had returned to her tall chair and Dick sat across from her on one of the wooden ones. The tea service stood between them, but of course they were waiting for the coming of the other two girls.

Although she had wished for her tea, Barbara did not feel impatient over the delay at present. She was trying to make up her mind whether it would be wise to tell Dick how glad she was of his cheerfulness before she began to speak of her own mission. For then there would be little opportunity for cheerfulness unless one of the others had better news to report than she had.

So instead of beginning a conversation Barbara sat in entire quiet, although gazing at her companion in an extremely friendly fashion.

In the pause Dick Thornton suddenly thrust out his right hand and placed it lightly over Barbara's hand, which chanced to be carelessly lying on the table.

"I have something I'd like to tell you, Barbara, before Nona and Mildred get here," he began. "It is a secret so far and perhaps I have no right to be so happy until things are settled. But I've every right——"

The moment had come! The news that Dick had to tell her she had been expecting. Yet she had believed the announcement would first be made by Nona. It was kind of Dick to remember their former friendliness and to wish her to share his happiness so soon.

But at this instant Mildred and Nona, without waiting to knock, opened the sitting room door and Dick's confession was never made.