Call for more wood and more
lights."
Mercy remained in her corner and shook her head. "Candles and
wood are scarce things here," she answered. "We must be patient,
even if we are left in the dark. Tell me," she went on, raising
her quiet voice a little, "how came you to risk crossing the
frontier in wartime?"
Grace's voice dropped when she answered the question. Grace's
momentary gayety of manner suddenly left her.
"I had urgent reasons," she said, "for returning to England."
"Alone?" rejoined the other. "Without any one to protect you?"
Grace's head sank on her bosom. "I have left my only
protector--my father--in the English burial-ground at Rome," she
answered simply. "My mother died, years since, in Canada."
The shadowy figure of the nurse suddenly changed its position on
the chest. She had started as the last word passed Miss
Roseberry's lips.
"Do you know Canada?" asked Grace.
"Well," was the brief answer--reluctantly given, short as it was.
"Were you ever near Port Logan?"
"I once lived within a few miles of Port Logan."
"When?"
"Some time since." With those words Mercy Merrick shrank back
into her corner and changed the subject.
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