his country declared war and then became an American ace. In his left shoulder he carried a souvenir of one of his air combats. Carmelita was proud of his war record. In the American colony in Paris he still enjoyed, five years after war, a reputation, and this had helped to pique her interest in him when they first met.
Two or three times Dudley had brought to the apartment friends who served with him as aviators—once, she recalled, a slight Frenchman named Major Potel, with one arm, a man who had brought down twelve German planes in the course of his air career and who was yet so bashful that he could not look her in the eye without blushing. Carmelita had never been so gracious as to these guests and she had hung upon their conversations with Dudley as if she were listening to the gods on Olympus.
Carmelita's attitude toward war was the contradictory one that most people have. She thought war romantic and yet she shuddered at the fruits of war—the dead and wounded.
For several reasons therefore the chance to assist in the Benefit Fête appealed to her instantly. Even before she spoke her answer to Mrs. Peabody she was busy with swift-forming plans.
"I should be delighted to serve," she said.
