“It is too horrible and too absurd!” said Barbara, a little brokenly.

The “Philadelphia” was now not far from Liverpool, proceeding with infinite caution through the submarine and mine-haunted waters. In great letters her name was painted on either side and never did the Stars and Stripes float more conspicuously overhead.

Dressed for the arrival in England, Barbara and Nona were standing side by side at a little distance from their fellow passengers. Mildred was seated with the newspaper correspondent and his mother, and Eugenia was talking with a good deal of interest to the English banker.

Nona did not answer the other girl’s speech immediately. She had frowned, started to say something and then evidently changed her mind. Both she and Barbara looked absurdly young and girlish for the work ahead of them. Moreover, in their different ways they were typically American, although their types were not the familiar ones known to most Europeans.

Barbara had the vivacity, the alertness and the “goaheadiveness” of the western girl. And in spite of being only a miniature physical edition of these traits of character she was not miniature in any other sense. Nona was more difficult to explain. She appeared so exactly what she had been brought up to be and yet she might surprise one by unexpected characteristics. She was almost too refined in her manner and aspect; it gave her a look of delicacy and diffidence. And in some ways Nona was shy. Nevertheless, there was a possibility that she might have the strength and mettle which one is supposed to find in a thoroughbred horse.

Finally she returned in her quiet drawl, which did not make her remark less emphatic:

“Don’t worry, Barbara dear, at least not more than you can help. It has been dreadful to have Lady Dorian a prisoner for these last few days, yet Captain Miller has been as polite as he could be under the circumstances. You see, as soon as the men discovered that the explosion on the ship had been intentional, there had to be a scapegoat. And you know Lady Dorian is mysterious. She won’t say what her real name is and she won’t surrender the odd iron box of papers that she is carrying with her. Besides, the accident did start either inside or near her stateroom. The small safe which must have contained the explosive was found not far away.”

Nona paused. Though Barbara had listened politely enough she now shrugged her shoulders, saying reproachfully, “Why, Nona, how odd you are! Actually you talk as if you believed Lady Dorian guilty! Always before you have been her staunchest champion. Besides, she seems to have taken a great fancy to you. Now if Mildred had been speaking I should have understood. She has been so influenced by Mrs. Curtis, or by her son; but——”

A peculiar expression crossed her companion’s face which at the instant silenced Barbara.

“Oh, no, I don’t think Lady Dorian guilty; the idea is ridiculous,” Nona whispered. “So far as we have been able to judge, she is one of the gentlest people in the world. The box of papers may prove that she is sacrificing herself for her country in some strange way. She won’t be able to keep them hidden once she lands. Captain Miller says that they will have to be given up to the proper authorities. He did not insist upon her relinquishing them upon his ship, because he had as much as he could do to get us ashore in safety. Besides, Lady Dorian is a woman. Captain Miller says an Irishman had best leave such a situation alone. I am not sure he really suspects her.”

At this moment, hearing footsteps near, Nona Davis turned from looking out toward the sea.

Approaching the place where they stood was the woman about whom they had just been talking. She was dressed in dark-blue cloth with a small hat of the same shade trimmed in a single darker feather. Behind her came her maid carrying a long coat, and on either side of her were two of the ship’s officers. They were entirely respectful, although never getting any distance away. However, they need not have been fearful, because the woman’s hands were locked together with a small steel chain.

She seemed pale and ill and yet, oddly enough, neither frightened nor ashamed.

But the sight of her handcuffs had set Barbara’s cheeks flaming indignantly. Yet they aroused an odd point of view. Could Nona be right in her suggestion that people commit strange crimes in the name of country in times of war, crimes from which their souls would have shrunk in horror during peace? No, guilt of any kind was impossible to imagine in connection with their new friend. In a sense Lady Dorian had become their friend, since she and Nona had been helping to care for her. Lady Dorian had been ill ever since the night of the explosion and the accusation following upon it.

However, while she had been thinking, Nona, who was usually slower in her movements, had crossed over and slipped her arm inside the older woman’s.

They made a queer, effective picture standing together. Barbara was conscious of it before joining them.

They were both women of refinement, who looked as if they should be sheltered from every adversity. Nona was dressed in shabby black, since all the money she had was being devoted to her expenses. Lady Dorian’s costume suggested wealth. Nona was delicately pretty, with promise of beauty to come, while the older woman was at the zenith of her loveliness. Nevertheless, something they had in common. Barbara’s western common sense asserted itself. “Perhaps it is because they both belong to ‘first families,’” she thought wickedly, and wondered if this were a good or evil fortune. Certainly until she reached them, Nona and Lady Dorian were as completely alone as if the ship’s deck had been a desert island.

Five minutes before several dozen persons had been loitering in the neighborhood, impatiently watching and praying to be landed as soon as possible. But as Lady Dorian advanced they had retreated. Perhaps they had meant it kindly, for it is a painful shock to see a fellow being a prisoner. Lady Dorian had been mistrusted, but she had not yet been condemned. Suspicion is not evidence.

However, the little group did not remain alone for long, for soon after both girls beheld Eugenia Peabody walking resolutely toward them. She happened to have been born a determined character, and her nursing had developed rather than diminished her determination.

Instantly Barbara and Nona became aware of Eugenia’s intention and longed to frustrate it. But they both felt powerless, because Eugenia did not speak or even look at them. Her dark eyes were leveled straight at Lady Dorian. She appeared righteous and severe, but at the same time impressive.

Moreover, as soon as she began talking the older woman flushed and for the first time the tears came into her eyes.

“I don’t wish to be rude or unkind, Lady Dorian,” Eugenia remarked stiffly, “but I do ask you to cease any suggestion of intimacy with Miss Meade or Miss Davis. They have told you, of course, that we are now on our way to nurse the wounded British soldiers. Well, I am not for an instant accusing you of being a spy or having anything to do with the accident aboard our steamer; nevertheless, you are strongly suspected. Certainly you can see for yourself how young and inexperienced Barbara Meade and Nona Davis both are. They are in my charge and must not start their work of nursing under any cloud. By and by if you are cleared and we should happen to meet again, why then of course if you liked you could be friendly. Now——”

Eugenia stopped, but there was no doubting what she meant. Although Barbara and Nona were both furiously angry at her interference and sorry for their new friend, nevertheless there was that tiresome conviction they had so often felt since sailing—Eugenia, though trying, was frequently right.

Evidently Lady Dorian thought so too. Instinctively she lifted her hands as though intending to offer one of them to Miss Peabody. But finding this impossible she dropped her dark lashes to hide her emotion and then answered as serenely as possible:

“You are entirely right, Miss Peabody, and I am to blame for not having thought before of what you have just said to me. Please believe that I did not think. Miss Davis and Miss Meade have been very good to me and their sympathy and care have helped me endure these last three days. I don’t know many American girls, but not for a great deal would I allow my acquaintance to make things difficult for them. It would be a poor return. I shall be arrested as soon as we arrive in Liverpool, so I think we had best say farewell at once.”

Lady Dorian attempted no denial and no explanation. As she finished her speech she glanced first at Nona and then at Barbara and let her eyes say her farewells; then she stepped back a few feet nearer her guards.

Deliberately Nona followed her. Apparently unconscious of the presence of any one else she lifted up her face and touched her lips to the older woman’s.

“I believe in you implicitly,” she murmured. “Yes, I know there are many things you do not wish to explain at present, and of course I really know nothing in the world about you. Only I feel sure that we shall some day meet again.”

Nona’s faith proved unfortunate. For the first time Lady Dorian showed signs of breaking down. But the next moment, smiling, she indicated a curious scroll pin that was caught in the lace of her dress.

“Will you take that, please,” she whispered, “and keep it until you have better reason for your faith in me?”

Following Eugenia, Barbara glanced curiously at Nona Davis. She was not easy to comprehend. After all, she it was who had emphasized all the reasons for doubting their new friend and then declared her belief in her entire innocence. It was merely that her faith did not depend on outward circumstances. Barbara wondered if she herself were equally as convinced. Then her conflicting sensations annoyed her. As usual, she began quarreling with Eugenia Peabody.

“If you are taking us to join Mildred and the Curtis family, Eugenia, then frankly I prefer other society. Nona and I had decided that we wished to be by ourselves when we first see the coasts of England. But so long as you feel you must be so terribly careful about chaperoning us I would like to say that we know nothing about Brooks Curtis or Mrs. Curtis except what they have told us, and Mildred Thornton has been almost exclusively in their society for the past few days.” Barbara tried to smile, but she looked very tiny and forlorn. She was homesick and the parting with Lady Dorian had been disturbing. Besides, Mildred was Dick Thornton’s sister and she had more or less promised Dick to try and look after her. Could anything much more disastrous occur than to have Mildred become interested in an unknown and presumably poor newspaper reporter? Certainly Brooks Curtis showed no signs of being either rich or famous in spite of his mother’s claims for him. Then the thought of Mrs. Thornton’s anger made Barbara wish to sigh and smile at the same time.