Aunt Janes Nieces in the Red Cross | Page 2

the London press bureau. Perhaps the
cables got crossed--or short circuited or something. They don't usually
allow the Germans to win two days in succession."
"Don't interrupt, please," said Beth, earnestly. "This is too important a
matter to be treated lightly. Read us the article, Uncle. I was afraid
Maubeuge would be taken."
Patsy accepted her cousin's rebuke with her accustomed good nature.
Indeed, she listened as intently as Beth to the thrilling account of the
destruction of Maubeuge, and her blue eyes became quite as serious as
the brown ones of her cousin when the tale of dead and wounded was
recounted.
"Isn't it dreadful!" cried Beth, clasping her hands together impulsively.
"Yes," nodded her uncle, "the horror of it destroys the interest we
naturally feel in any manly struggle for supremacy."
"This great war is no manly struggle," observed Patsy with a toss of her
head. "It is merely wholesale murder by a band of selfish diplomats."

"Tut-tut!" warned Mr. Merrick; "we Americans are supposed to be
neutral, my dear. We must not criticize."
"That does not prevent our sympathizing with the innocent sufferers,
however," said Beth quietly. "My heart goes out, Uncle, to those poor
victims of the war's cruelty, the wounded and dying. I wish I could do
something to help them!"
Uncle John moved uneasily in his chair. Then he laid down his paper
and applied himself to his breakfast. But his usual merry expression
had faded into one of thoughtfulness.
"The wounded haunt me by day and night," went on Beth. "There are
thousands upon thousands of them, left to suffer terrible pain--perhaps
to die--on the spot where they fell, and each one is dear to some poor
woman who is ignorant of her loved one's fate and can do nothing but
moan and pray at home."
"That's the hard part of it," said Patsy, her cousin. "I think the mothers
and wives and sweethearts are as much to be pitied as the fallen
soldiers. The men know what has happened, but the women don't. It
isn't so bad when they're killed outright; the family gets a medal to
indicate that their hero has died for his country. But the wounded are
lost sight of and must suffer in silence, with no loving hands to soothe
their agony."
"My dears!" pleaded Uncle John, plaintively, "why do you insist upon
flavoring our breakfast with these horrors? I--I--there! take it away; I
can't eat."
The conversation halted abruptly. The girls were likewise unnerved by
the mental pictures evolved by their remarks and it was now too late to
restore cheerfulness to the morning meal. They sat in pensive silence
for a while and were glad when Mr. Merrick pushed back his chair and
rose from the table.
As Beth and Patsy followed their uncle into the cosy library where he
was accustomed to smoke his morning cigar, the little man remarked:

"Let's see; this is the seventh of September."
"Quite right, Uncle," said Patsy.
"Isn't this the day Maud Stanton is due to arrive?"
"No," replied Beth; "she will come to-morrow morning. It's a good four
days' trip from California to New York, you know."
"I wonder why she is coming here at this time of year," said Patsy
reflectively, "and I wonder if her Aunt Jane or her sister Flo are with
her."
"She did not mention them in her telegram," answered Beth. "All she
said was to expect her Wednesday morning. It seems quite mysterious,
that telegram, for I had no idea Maud thought of coming East."
"Well, we will know all about it when she arrives," observed Uncle
John. "I will be glad to see Maud again, for she is one of my especial
favorites."
"She's a very dear girl!" exclaimed Patsy, with emphasis. "It will be
simply glorious to--"
The doorbell rang sharply. There was a moment's questioning pause,
for it was too early for visitors. The pattering feet of the little maid,
Mary, approached the door and next moment a boyish voice demanded:
"Is Mr. Merrick at home, or the young ladies, or--"
"Why, it's Ajo!" shouted Patsy, springing to her feet and making a dive
for the hallway.
"Jones?" said Mr. Merrick, looking incredulous.
"It must be," declared Beth, for now Patsy's voice was blended with
that of the boy in a rapid interchange of question and answer. Then in
she came, dragging him joyously by the arm.

"This is certainly a surprise!" said Mr. Merrick, shaking the tall, slender
youth by the hand with evident pleasure.
"When did you get to town?" asked Beth, greeting the boy cordially.
"And why didn't you let us know you were on the way from far-off Los
Angeles?"
"Well," said Jones, seating himself facing them and softly rubbing his
lean hands together to indicate his satisfaction