Aunt Janes Nieces in the Red Cross

Aunt Jane's Nieces in the Red
Cross

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Edith Van Dyne
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Title: Aunt Jane's Nieces in the Red Cross
Author: Edith Van Dyne

Release Date: August 21, 2005 [eBook #16567]
Language: English
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JANE'S NIECES IN THE RED CROSS***
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AUNT JANE'S NIECES IN THE RED CROSS
by
EDITH VAN DYNE
Author of "Aunt Jane's Nieces Series," "Flying Girl Series," etc.
The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago
1915

[Illustration]

FOREWORD
This is the story of how three brave American girls sacrificed the
comforts and luxuries of home to go abroad and nurse the wounded
soldiers of a foreign war.
I wish I might have depicted more gently the scenes in hospital and on
battlefield, but it is well that my girl readers should realize something
of the horrors of war, that they may unite with heart and soul in earnest
appeal for universal, lasting Peace and the future abolition of all deadly
strife.
Except to locate the scenes of my heroines' labors, no attempt has been
made to describe technically or historically any phase of the great
European war.
The character of Doctor Gys is not greatly exaggerated but had its
counterpart in real life. As for the little Belgian who had no room for
scruples in his active brain, his story was related to me by an American
war correspondent who vouched for its truth. The other persona in the
story are known to those who have followed their adventures in other
books of the "Aunt Jane's Nieces" series.

EDITH VAN DYNE
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE ARRIVAL OF THE BOY 9
II THE ARRIVAL OF THE GIRL 25
III THE DECISION OF DOCTOR GYS 37
IV THE HOSPITAL SHIP 48
V NEARING THE FRAY 58
VI LITTLE MAURIE 75
VII ON THE FIRING LINE 86
VIII THE COWARD 96
IX COURAGE, OR PHILOSOPHY? 108
X THE WAR'S VICTIMS 121
XI PATSY IS DEFIANT 135
XII THE OTHER SIDE 146
XIII TARDY JUSTICE 160
XIV FOUND AT LAST 182
XV DR. GYS SURPRISES HIMSELF 189
XVI CLARETTE 197
XVII PERPLEXING PROBLEMS 204

XVIII A QUESTION OF LOYALTY 217
XIX THE CAPTURE 225
XX THE DUNES 244
CHAPTER I
THE ARRIVAL OF THE BOY
"What's the news, Uncle?" asked Miss Patricia Doyle, as she entered
the cosy breakfast room of a suite of apartments in Willing Square.
Even as she spoke she pecked a little kiss on the forehead of the chubby
man addressed as "Uncle"--none other, if you please, than the famous
and eccentric multi-millionaire known in Wall Street as John
Merrick--and sat down to pour the coffee.
There was energy in her method of doing this simple duty, an
indication of suppressed vitality that conveyed the idea that here was a
girl accustomed to action. And she fitted well into the homely scene:
short and somewhat "squatty" of form, red-haired, freckle-faced and
pug-nosed. Wholesome rather than beautiful was Patsy Doyle, but if
you caught a glimpse of her dancing blue eyes you straightway forgot
her lesser charms.
Quite different was the girl who entered the room a few minutes later.
Hers was a dark olive complexion, face of exquisite contour, great
brown eyes with a wealth of hair to match them and the flush of a rose
in her rounded cheeks. The poise of her girlish figure was gracious and
dignified as the bearing of a queen.
"Morning, Cousin Beth," said Patsy cheerily.
"Good morning, my dear," and then, with a trace of anxiety in her tone:
"What is the news, Uncle John?"
The little man had ignored Patsy's first question, but now he answered
absently, his eyes still fixed upon the newspaper:

"Why, they're going to build another huge skyscraper on Broadway, at
Eleventh, and I see the political pot is beginning to bubble all through
the Bronx, although--"
"Stuff and nonsense, Uncle!" exclaimed Patsy. "Beth asked for news,
not for gossip."
"The news of the war, Uncle John," added Beth, buttering her toast.
"Oh; the war, of course," he said, turning over the page of the morning
paper. "It ought to be the Allies' day, for the Germans won yesterday.
No--by cracky, Beth--the Germans triumph again; they've captured
Maubeuge. What do you think of that?"
Patsy gave a little laugh.
"Not knowing where Maubeuge is," she remarked, "my only thought is
that something is wrong with