I didn't want to answer that question, in which the personal note sounded so clearly. "I am going to America to see America," I said, "and America may be rather a big thing to see."
"I want to be sure of it--as something comprehensive. I want to get a general effect of it...."
Rachel hesitated, looked back to measure the distance of the Fürstin and her companion and put her question again, but this time with a significance that did not seem even to want to hide itself. "_Then_ will you come back?" she said.
Her face flamed scarlet, but her eyes met mine boldly. Between us there was a flash of complete understanding.
My answer, if it was lame and ungallant to such a challenge, was at least perfectly honest. "I can't make up my mind," I said. "I've been near making plans--taking steps.... Something holds me back...."
She stood for a moment rather stiffly, staring away towards the blue hills of Alsace.
Then she turned with a smiling and undisturbed countenance to the Fürstin. Her crimson had given place to white. "The triumph of it," she said with a slight gesture to the flamboyant Teutonism that towered over us, and boldly repeating words I had used scarcely five minutes before, "makes me angry. They conquered--ungraciously...."
She had overlooked something in her effort to seem entirely self-possessed. She collapsed. "My dear!" she cried,--"I forgot!"
"Oh! I'm only a German by marriage!" cried the Fürstin. "And I can assure you I quite understand--about the triumph of it...." She surveyed the achievement of her countrymen. "It is--ungracious. But indeed it's only a sort of artlessness if you see the thing properly.... It's not vulgarity--it's childishness.... They've hardly got over it yet--their intense astonishment at being any good at war.... That large throaty Victory! She's not so militant as she seems. She's too plump.... Of course what a German really appreciates is nutrition. But I quite agree with you both.... I'm beginning to want my tea, Mr. Stratton.... Rachel!"
Her eyes had been on Rachel as she chattered. The girl had turned to the distant hills again, and had forgotten even to pretend to listen to the answer she had evoked. Now she came back sharply to the sound of her name.