But in spite of his heroic efforts, his mind would escape him, far away
to the sunny Athabasca plains, and the gleaming river and the smooth
slipping canoe, and then with swift transition to the little British
plot in the cemetery at Boulogne.
At such times, Paula, reading his face, would momentarily falter in
her gay talk, only to begin again with renewed vivacity. On one topic,
however, she had no difficulty in holding Barry's attention. It was when
she told of the organising and despatching of the American Red Cross
units to France, and more especially of her own unit, organised and
financed by her father.
"I am awfully sorry he is not here to-day. He would have loved to have
seen you again, Barry."
"And I to have seen him," said Barry. "He is a big man, and it is
fine of him to do this thing. It's just like the big, generous-hearted
Americans--they are so unstinted in their sympathies, and they back them
up for all they are worth."
"And how efficient they are," added the V. A.
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