“Thank goodness, that’s settled,” said Patsy cheerfully.

Uncle John turned to the boy, saying dismally: 

“I’ve done everything in my power for these girls, and now they defy me.  They’ve declared a thousand times they love me, and yet they’d trot off to bandage a lot of unknown foreigners and leave me alone to worry my heart out.”

“Why don’t you go along?” asked Jones.  “I’m going.”

“You!”

“Of course.  I’ve a suspicion our girls have the right instinct, sir—­the tender, womanly instinct that makes us love them.  At any rate, I’m going to stand by them.  It strikes me as the noblest and grandest idea a girl ever conceived, and if anything could draw me closer to these three young ladies, who had me pretty well snared before, it is this very proposition.”

“I don’t see why,” muttered Uncle John, wavering.

“I’ll tell you why, sir.  For themselves, they have all the good things of life at their command.  They could bask in luxury to the end of their days, if they so desired.  Yet their wonderful womanly sympathy goes out to the helpless and suffering—­the victims of the cruellest war the world has ever known—­and they promptly propose to sacrifice their ease and brave whatever dangers may befall, that they may relieve to some extent the pain and agony of those wounded and dying fellow creatures.”

“Foreigners,” said Uncle John weakly.

“Human beings,” said the boy.

Patsy marched over to Ajo and gave him a sturdy whack upon the back that nearly knocked him over.

“The spirit of John Paul Jones still goes marching on!” she cried.  “My boy, you’re the right stuff, and I’m glad I doctored you.”

He smiled, looking from one to another of the three girls questioningly.

“Then I’m to go along?” he asked.

“We shall be grateful,” answered Maud, after a moment’s hesitation.  “This is all very sudden to me, for I had planned to go alone.”

“That wouldn’t do at all,” asserted Uncle John briskly.  “I’m astonished and—­and grieved—­that my nieces should want to go with you, but perhaps the trip will prove interesting.  Tell me what steamer you want to catch, Maud, and I’ll reserve rooms for our entire party.”

“No,” said Jones, “don’t do it, sir.”

“Why not?”

“There’s the Arabella.  Let’s use her.”

“To cross the ocean?”

“She has done that before.  It will assist our enterprise, I’m sure, to have our own boat.  These are troublous times on the high seas.”

Patsy clapped her hands gleefully.

“That’s it; a hospital ship!” she exclaimed.

They regarded her with various expressions:  startled, doubtful, admiring, approving.  Presently, with added thought on the matter, the approval became unanimous.

“It’s an amazing suggestion,” said Maud, her eyes sparkling.

“Think how greatly it will extend our usefulness,” said Beth.