"And now," said Mr. Travers, "suppose we come to the point. There
doesn't seem to be a chance to get you over, my child. Same answer
everywhere. Place is full of untrained women. Spies have been using
Red Cross passes. Result is that all the lines are drawn as tight as
possible."
Sara Lee stared at him with wide eyes.
"But I can't go back," she said. "I--well, I just can't. They're
raising the money for me, and all sorts of people are giving things.
A--a friend of mine is baking cakes and sending on the money. She
has three children, and--"
She gulped.
"I thought everybody wanted to get help to the Belgians," she said.
A slightly grim smile showed itself on Mrs. Travers' face.
"I'm afraid you don't understand. It is you we want to help. Neither
Mr. Travers nor I feel that a girl so young as you, and alone, has any
place near the firing line. And that, I fancy, is where you wish to go.
As to helping the Belgians, we have four in the house now. They do not
belong to the same social circles, so they prefer tea in their own rooms.
You are quite right about their needing help too. They cannot even make
up their own beds."
"They are not all like that," broke in Mr. Travers hastily.
"Of course not. But I merely think that Miss--er--Kennedy should know
both sides of the picture."
Somewhat later Sara Lee was ushered downstairs by the neat maid, who
stood on the steps and blew a whistle for a taxi--Sara Lee had come in
a bus. She carried in her hand the address of a Belgian commission of
relief at the Savoy Hotel, and in her heart, for the first time, a doubt
of her errand. She gave the Savoy address mechanically and, huddled in
a corner, gave way to wild and fearful misgivings.
Coming up she had sat on top of the bus and watched with wide curious,
eyes the strange traffic of London. The park had fascinated her--the
little groups of drilling men in khaki, the mellow tones of a bugle, and
here and there on the bridle paths well-groomed men and women on
horseback, as clean-cut as the horses they rode, and on the surface as
careless of what was happening across the Channel. But she saw nothing
now. She sat back and twisted Harvey's ring on her finger, and saw
herself going back, her work undone, her faith in herself shattered.
And Harvey's arms and the Leete house ready to receive her.