to Captain Castaigne, Eugenia had confessed to the younger girl how she dreaded her own inability to become a Frenchwoman. She still feared that she would never be equal to the things Captain Castaigne had a right to expect of her, once the war was over. Eugenia had merely cared too much to be willing to give him up, but was too wise to expect that her problems would end with marriage.

So with this thought Barbara Meade finally removed a tear from the end of her nose. It had trickled quite comfortably out of her eyes, but as her nose was somewhat retroussé, it had hesitated there.

After all, an American marriage was best for an American girl! Barbara tried to convince herself that she should be rejoicing instead of lamenting. Certainly Dick was the most agreeable and to be desired person in the entire world. But then there was another side to this! Had he not been, perhaps she would not at this moment be missing him so terribly and at all the moments. Letters were so infrequent! Mrs. Thornton might positively refuse to allow her son to marry so insignificant a person, and Dick forget all about her!

But in the midst of this last and most harrowing thought, fortunately Nona Davis came into the room.

She looked excited, but on catching sight of her friend’s face her expression changed.

“Good heavens, Barbara!” she began. Then the next moment she walked over and tilted the other girl’s chin with her hand.

“You are just homesick, aren’t you, and longing for some one who shall be nameless? You frightened me at first; I feared you had heard dreadful news. Come, get your coat and have a walk with me. We have both nearly two hours of freedom and I’ve permission to go outside the fortifications.”

The other girl shook her head and shivered.

“It is too cold, Nona dear, and besides, I’m afraid. I know the Russians are said to be holding the line of fortifications beyond us, but then the Germans may break through at any time. Goodness knows, I don’t see what you and Mildred find so fascinating in Russia! I am afraid I am not brave enough to have come with you.”

While Barbara was arguing Nona had taken her coat from its hook on the wall and was putting it about her friend.

“Yes, I know all that, but just the same you are coming for a walk. As long as you are here you must keep strong enough to do your work. But there, I can’t scold half so well as Eugenia. I suppose if Dick belonged to me I should be as wretched as you are without him. You are a dear to have stuck by Mildred and me during this Russian work. But do come, I’ve something really interesting to tell you. Perhaps you may feel a tiny bit less lonely afterwards.”

In the meantime Nona had put on her own coat and cap and the two girls started. They had to walk down a narrow stone corridor and then a long flight of winding stone steps to reach the courtyard below.

To the right the soldiers were drilling. One could hear the harsh clatter of their heavy boots and the crash of their rifles when they touched the frozen earth.

It had turned unexpectedly cold, and yet without a spoken word both girls stopped and stared about them as soon as they reached the outdoors.

Certainly the scene formed an extraordinary setting for two young American girls!

The sky was gray, and although it was only early autumn, there were occasional flurries of snow.

Behind them stood a long, low line of stone and iron fortifications with enormous guns mounted at intervals along the walls. At one end was an observation tower, where one could see miles on miles of trenches stretching in a kind of semicircle before the fortifications. Should the enemy destroy the trenches the Russian soldiers could then mass behind the fort and afterwards, if necessary, accomplish their retreat. For a small force could delay the enemy through the strength of their position and the use of their big guns.

Sheltered behind breastworks of earth, barbed wire entanglements and a natural protection of trees, the girls could barely discern the aerodrome. In this place were situated the machine shops for building and repairing aeroplanes, and also from here their flights and returns could be made.

Yet in spite of these signs of active warfare, the place was curiously silent. Barbara felt puzzled. Only the endless tramp, tramp of the soldiers at drill and an occasional guttural command. The noises from the inside of the fort never penetrated to the outside. But then these Russians were a quiet people.

Within a few moments the two girls showed their order to the sentry and were allowed to pass beyond the gate. They then started on their walk along the same road which Nona had traveled alone several days before. But actually this was the first chance the girls had for talking over Nona’s experiences together. True, they shared the same bedroom, so that on her return Nona had given a brief report. But really they had been too tired at night to grasp the situation.

Now naturally Barbara thought her companion meant to talk of her recent experience. Neither one of them attempted conversation at the beginning of their walk, for the main road was as filled with supplies of every kind that were being hauled to the great fort, as it had been on the day of Nona’s solitary excursion. But indeed this was a daily occurrence.

So, as soon as possible, the girls got away from the road into a lane that was lined with peasants’ huts. This lay in an opposite direction from the path Nona had previously taken. She had no desire to meet her former acquaintance again until she had made up her mind as to her own attitude toward her.

Neither Barbara nor Mildred had so far been able to give her any definite advice.

Mildred really refused to consider that the older woman could have known Nona’s mother years before in their own country. Her story was too incredible to be believed.

Barbara had not taken this same point of view. At the present moment she was going over the situation in retrospection. In the first place, it was absurd to think that any train of circumstances could be impossible in such a surprising world. The woman, whom they had once known as Lady Dorian and whom they now were to think of by another name, had evidently once been a woman of wealth and culture, no matter what her present condition of poverty. She seemed to have traveled everywhere and she may of course have met Nona Davis’ family. There was actually no reason why she should not have known them, Barbara concluded in her sensible western fashion. Doubtless when Nona allowed the older woman to explain the situation it would not be half so mysterious as it now appeared. The really remarkable thing was, not that the other woman should be familiar with Nona’s mother’s history, but that her own daughter should be so in ignorance.

For her part she intended to advise Nona to listen to whatever their former friend wished to tell her. But just as Barbara opened her lips to offer this advice, her companion spoke.

“Barbara, you have been in such a study you haven’t asked for the piece of news I have to give you. Do you remember almost quarreling with me because I did not wish to write a note to the English fellow we once knew when we were in Brussels, after you discovered him in prison there?”

Barbara nodded, her mind immediately distracted from her former train of thought.

“Lieutenant Hume? Why, do you know what has become of him?” she inquired.

In reply Nona took a letter out of her pocket.

“I