For the moment Nancy was angry with Trevanion. She wanted to defend Bob. She wanted to tell him that Bob was braver than he. But she could not. She had spoken truly when she said that she was ashamed of herself for having allowed herself to think of him.
"Give me even the shadow of a promise," went on Trevanion, "and all thought of him will be for ever gone."
"No," said Nancy, "I can promise nothing--now."
"Yes," said the girl, "I'll promise that, if--if it will be of any comfort to you."
"I don't fear now," cried Trevanion. "Everything will be right. What you have been telling me is nothing--just a passing fancy which will be--nothing. Give me a kiss, Nancy, and----"
"No," said the girl, and she shrank back almost instinctively, "not that; but the other--yes, I'll promise to try."
"I'm the happiest man in England with only that," laughed Trevanion; "what shall I be when--when the war is over, and I come back to claim my own. I shall find you waiting for me, shan't I?"
"I--I don't know. I may not come back. It what the papers say is true, even the nurses are not safe."
"But have you really settled to go abroad as a nurse?"
"I thought you understood that when you were here last. I go to London the day after to-morrow, and in a week from now I expect to be in one of the French hospitals."
"I had hoped you'd given up that," said the Captain moodily.
"Why should you hope that? If it's your duty to go, it is mine. There are plenty of nurses for the English hospitals, but there are fewer volunteers for Belgium and France. I suppose the most hopeful cases are sent home to England. Those who are dangerously wounded remain in France or Belgium. That's where I want to be."
Trevanion looked at her with admiring eyes. Even while he hoped she would remain in England, he admired her determination to go and nurse the worst cases.
"What a wife she'll be!" he reflected. "Proud as Lucifer and honourable to the finger tips. Yes, I've got her. She'll regard even this shadow of a promise as binding on her. As for Nancarrow, he's done with for ever. Thank heaven for that! By Jove, I'm a lucky beggar!"
"Perhaps we may meet in France, Nancy," he said aloud; "I may be wounded, and----"
"Heavens, she loves me!" thought the Captain. "She can't bear the idea of my being wounded."