out his hair with the small pocket comb and brush that he, like most
other young officers, carried, and felt as if he had been made over.

He hung up his hat and heavy overcoat, and, resuming his place on the
sofa, waited until Julie should announce her readiness. But she took
more than a half-hour. He had not expected anything else. Truly a girl
in her position was entitled to at least an hour if she wanted it. So he
continued to wait with great patience. Besides it was very comfortable
there on the sofa, and the swish of the driving snow against the
window-panes was soothing. Now and then the low mutter of the guns came,
but it did not disturb him.

"I'm ready if you are, Mr. John," called a clear voice, and springing
from the sofa he joined Julie in the hall. She had smoothed her hair and
her Red Cross dress, and the rest had restored all her brilliant color.
She was as calm, too, as if they were not alone under the cloud of war,
and the hotel was full of real guests. It was her courage as much as
her beauty that appealed to John. At no time in all the dangers through
which they had gone had he seen her flinch. He had heard much of the
courage shown by the women in the great Civil War in his own country,
and this maid of France was proving anew that a girl could be as brave
as a man.

"May I take you down to dinner, Mademoiselle Lannes?" he asked.

"You may, Mr. Scott," she replied, and they walked together down the
hall and the stairway into the great dining-room. Antoine, a napkin on
his arm, ceremoniously held open the door for them and Suzanne showed
them to opposite seats at a small table by the window.