Aunt Janes Nieces in the Red Cross | Page 5

possessing qualities that had endeared her to every patron of the better class photo-dramas.
At first she had been forced to adopt this occupation by the stern necessity of earning a livelihood, and under the careful guidance of her aunt--Mrs. Jane Montrose, a widow who had at one time been a favorite in New York social circles--Maud and her sister Florence had applied themselves so intelligently to their art that their compensation had become liberal enough to enable them to save a modest competence.
One cause of surprise at Maud's sudden journey east was the fact that her services were in eager demand by the managers of the best producing companies on the Pacific Coast, where nearly all the American pictures are now made. Another cause for surprise was that she came alone, leaving her Aunt Jane and her sister Flo--usually her inseparable companion--in Los Angeles.
But they did not question her until the cosy home at Willing Square was reached, luncheon served and Maud installed in the "Guest Room." Then the three girls had "a good, long talk" and presently came trooping into the library to enlighten Uncle John and Ajo.
"Oh, Uncle! What do you think?" cried Patsy. "Maud is going to the war!"
"The war!" echoed Mr. Merrick in a bewildered voice. "What on earth can--"
"She is going to be a nurse," explained Beth, a soft glow of enthusiasm mantling her pretty face. "Isn't it splendid, Uncle!"
"H-m," said Uncle John, regarding the girl with wonder. "It is certainly a--a--surprising venture."
"But--see here, Maud--it's mighty dangerous," protested young Jones. "It's a tremendous undertaking, and--what can one girl do in the midst of all those horrors?"
Maud seated herself quietly between them. Her face was grave and thoughtful.
"I have had to answer many such arguments before now, as you may suspect," she began in even tones, "but the fact that I am here, well on my journey, is proof that I have convinced my aunt, my sister and all my western friends that I am at least determined on my mission, whether it be wise or foolish. I do not think I shall incur danger by caring for the wounded; the Red Cross is highly respected everywhere, these days."
"The Red Cross?" quoth Uncle John.
"Yes; I shall wear the Red Cross," she continued. "You know that I am a trained nurse; it was part of my education before--before--"
"I had not known that until now," said Mr. Merrick, "but I am glad you have had that training. Beth began a course at the school here, but I took her away to Europe before she graduated. However, I wish more girls could be trained for nursing, as it is a more useful and admirable accomplishment than most of them now acquire."
"Fox-Trots and Bunny-Hugs, for instance," said Patricia with fine disdain.
"Patsy is a splendid nurse," declared Ajo, with a grateful look toward that chubby miss.
"But untrained," she answered laughingly. "It was just common sense that enabled me to cure your malady, Ajo. I couldn't bandage a cut or a bullet wound to save me."
"Fortunately," said Maud, "I have a diploma which will gain for me the endorsement of the American Red Cross Society. I am counting on that to enable me to get an appointment at the seat of war, where I can be of most use."
"Where will you go?" asked the boy. "To Germany, Austria, Russia, Belgium, or--"
"I shall go to France," she replied. "I speak French, but understand little of German, although once I studied the language."
"Are you fully resolved upon this course, Maud?" asked Mr. Merrick in a tone of regret.
"Fully decided, sir. I am going to Washington to-morrow, to get my credentials, and then I shall take the first steamer to Europe."
There was no use arguing with Maud Stanton when she assumed that tone. It was neither obstinate nor defiant, yet it conveyed a quiet resolve that was unanswerable.
For a time they sat in silence, musing on the many phases of this curious project; then Beth came to Mr. Merrick's side and asked pleadingly:
"May I go with her, Uncle?"
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, with a nervous jump. "You, Beth?"
"Yes, Uncle. I so long to be of help to those poor fellows who are being so cruelly sacrificed; and I know I can soothe much suffering, if I have the opportunity."
He stared at her, not knowing what to reply. This quaint little man was so erratic himself, in his sudden resolves and eccentric actions, that he could scarcely quarrel with his niece for imitating an example he had frequently set. Still, he was shrewd enough to comprehend the reckless daring of the proposition.
"Two unprotected girls in the midst of war and carnage, surrounded by foreigners, inspired to noble sacrifice through ignorance and inexperience, and hardly old enough to travel alone from Hoboken to Brooklyn! Why, the thing's absurd,"