had nursed behind the British lines in France since the early days of
the war, and that her old friend, Mrs. Prentiss, had joined her a few
months since. Kate asked innumerable questions about the other girls,
particularly Mariette, whom she remembered as a Germanic blonde of warm
coloring, the coldest eyes, the most subtly rigid and ruthless mouth
she had ever seen. She had found some difficulty picturing her as a Red
Cross nurse and was not surprised to hear that she was in charge of an
enormous organization for the supply of cantines. Of her executive
ability and quick determination there could be no doubt--as she told Ann
Prentiss later.

In the excitement and exhilaration of this purely feminine
conversation--which soon included Heloise and Mimi--the two parties
forgot the gory chasm that divided them. When they dropped suddenly at a
chance word to the present that gripped even these glittering snow
fields with its red insatiable fingers, Kate, as ever, was equal to the
formidable moment and cried out, snapping her fingers at the blue ether
so tranquilly aloof from warring hosts:

"Forget it! For to-day, at least. What are you thinking about so hard,
Ann?"

"I'll tell you later. Let us go in and have tea and then skate again. I
noticed how well my step suited Countess Gisela's."

Ann Howland, as the wife of an eminent politician, had long since
cultivated the art of mental suppleness and had learned to fascinate the
most diverse intelligences and egos. Gisela, who was always warmly
responsive to personal charm when not too obviously insincere, enjoyed
the hour on the ice so exclusively devoted to her by the distinguished