She
has three children, and--"
She gulped.
"I thought everybody wanted to get help to the Belgians," she said.
A slightly grim smile showed itself on Mrs. Travers' face.
"I'm afraid you don't understand. It is you we want to help. Neither
Mr. Travers nor I feel that a girl so young as you, and alone, has any
place near the firing line. And that, I fancy, is where you wish to go.
As to helping the Belgians, we have four in the house now. They do not
belong to the same social circles, so they prefer tea in their own rooms.
You are quite right about their needing help too. They cannot even make
up their own beds."
"They are not all like that," broke in Mr. Travers hastily.
"Of course not. But I merely think that Miss--er--Kennedy should know
both sides of the picture."
Somewhat later Sara Lee was ushered downstairs by the neat maid, who
stood on the steps and blew a whistle for a taxi--Sara Lee had come in
a bus. She carried in her hand the address of a Belgian commission of
relief at the Savoy Hotel, and in her heart, for the first time, a doubt
of her errand. She gave the Savoy address mechanically and, huddled in
a corner, gave way to wild and fearful misgivings.
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