"Let us drive over to Castle Voig the first thing，"she said."But，my dear，it's unreasonable，"he objected."Doyou suppose a high—born young lady would marry a common soldier？In America，where we have no caste，it would be quite probable，but here—""He wasn't a soldier five months ago，"said Patsy."He's just a volunteer，who joined the army when his country needed him，as many of the wealthy and aristocratica Belgians did.He may be high—born himself，for all we know.At any rate I mean to visit that castle.Tell Rondel to bring around the automobile."They had no trouble in passing the guards，owing to thepresence of von Holtz，and in half an hour they were rolling through a charming，peaceful country that as yet had suffered no blemish through the German conquest.
At Castle Voig they were received by an aged retainerb who was visibly nervous at their arrival.He eyed the uniform of young von Holtz with ill—concealed terror and hurried away to carry their cards to the countess.After a long wait theylearned that the countess would receive the Americans，but it was a full half hour after that when they were ushered into a reception room where a lady sat in solitary state.
Under other circumstances Patsy could have spent a day in admiring the quainta，old—fashioned furniture and pictures and the wonderful carvings of the beamed ceiling，but now she was so excited that she looked only at the countess.The lady was not very imposing in form or dress but her features were calm and dignified and she met her guests with a gravecourtesy that was impressive if rather chilly.Before Patsy had summoned courage to explain her errand a younger woman—almost a girl—hurriedly entered the room and took a position beside the other.
"Oh，it's Elizabeth—it really is！"cried Patsy，clappingher hands together joyfully.
Mother and daughter regarded the American girl wonderingly and somewhat haughtilyb，but Patsy was not in the least dismayed.
"Isn't this Mrs.Denton？"she asked，stepping forward tolay a hand upon the other girl's arm."Yes，"was the quiet reply.
Patsy's great eyes regarded her a moment with so sad and sympathetic a look that Mrs.Denton shrank away.Then she noticed for the first time the Red Cross uniform，and her handwent swiftly to her heart as she faltered：
"You—you have brought bad news of Andrew—of my husband？""Yes，I am sorry to admit that it is bad news，"answered Patsy soberly."He has been wounded and is now lying ill in our hospital ship at Dunkirk.We came here to find you，and to take you to him."Mrs.Denton turned to her mother，a passionate appealin her eyes.But it was some moments before the hard，set look on the face of the countess softened.It did soften at last，however，and she turned to Patsy and said simply：
"We will prepare for the journey at once.Pray excuse us；Niklas will serve refreshmentsa.We will not detain you long."As they turned to leave the room Elizabeth Denton suddenly seized Patsy's hand.
"He will live？"she whispered."Tell me he will live！"Patsy's heart sank，but she summoned her wits by an effort.
"I am not a surgeon，my dear，and do not know how seriousthe wound may be，"she answered，"but I assure you it will gladden his heart to see you again.He thinks and speaks only of you."The girl—wife studied her face a moment and then dropped her hand and hurried after her mother.
"I fibbed，Uncle，"said Patsy despondently."I fibbedwillfully.But—how could I help it when she looked at me that way？"
