The Red Cross Girls with the Russian Army Part 18

The next moment she looked directly at the man, whom she felt sure was her friend, in spite of the differences in their ages, their rank and their countries.

"General Alexis, I am going to ask you to do me a favor--no, I don't mean about Sonya this time. I shall be more grateful than I can even try to say for that kindness. But this is something which does not concern anyone except just you and me. Will you never in the future speak or think of the service which you are good enough to say I have rendered you." Actually, Mildred was now twisting her hands together in the old nervous fashion which she thought she had overcome. "It is difficult for me to say things," she went on, "but I want you to know that the greatest honor I shall ever have in my life was the privilege of nursing you. If I did help make you well, why I am so happy and proud the favor is on my side and not yours." And Mildred ended with a slight gasp, feeling her cheeks burning in spite of the cold, so unaccustomed was she to making long speeches or to revealing her emotions.

"Miss Thornton," General Alexis returned. Then instead of finishing his sentence he leaned over and touched his coachman.

"Stop the sleigh for a moment. We are growing cold. It will be better for us to walk for ten or fifteen minutes and then come back to the sleigh." Again he spoke to Mildred.

"You will come with me for a little?" he asked. "It will be wiser for you not to grow stiff with sitting still." Afterwards he said something to Lieutenant Orlaff, to which he and Nona agreed.

Five minutes later Mildred was walking across the snow toward the river, with her hand resting on General Alexis' arm. She was colder than she had imagined and it was difficult to walk over the icy and unfamiliar ground.

But suddenly she stopped and gave an exclamation of surprise and delight which was almost one of awe.

She and General Alexis were alone. Nona and Lieutenant Orlaff had walked off in an opposite direction. But Mildred now beheld the sun setting upon the Russian capital. Beneath, the world was pure white, and above, the sky a glory of orange and purple and rose. Between the two, suspended like giant fairy b.a.l.l.s, were the great domes of Petrograd's many churches.

"I shall never, never forget that picture so long as I live. It will stay with me as my vision of Petrograd long after I have gone home to my own country," Mildred said simply. Then she stopped in her walk and held out her hand. "Thank you for this afternoon."

General Alexis did not release the girl's hand. Instead he lifted it to his lips and kissed it, although the hand was covered with a heavy glove.

Then he smiled at Mildred almost boyishly. "I want to say something to you, Miss Thornton, which I suppose a woman does not really mind hearing, no matter to what country she belongs or what her answer may be. In these weeks I have known you I have come to care for you very deeply. I am old enough perhaps to be your father. I have said this to myself a hundred times and that it ought to make my feeling impossible.

It has not. Naturally I understand that my age may make it impossible for you to return my affection, but it has not made the difference with me. I love you, Mildred. I have known many women, but have never met one so fine and sweet as you. It is the custom of your country when a man cares for a woman to tell her so, is it not, or perhaps I should have written first to your father?"

General Alexis' manner was so nave, almost as if he had been a boy instead of one of the most distinguished men in Europe. Mildred could almost have smiled if she had not been so overwhelmed by his speech.

Was General Alexis actually saying that he was in love with her? No one had ever proposed to her in her life and she had never expected that any one would care sufficiently. But that the words should come from the man whom she felt to be a genius and a hero! No wonder Mildred was speechless for a moment.

"General Alexis, I have never dreamed of anything like this. I only hoped at the most that you were my friend," she answered a little later.

"Really, I don't know--I can't say how I feel. I appreciate the honor, but Russia is so far away, and my father----"

"Yes, I know," General Alexis interrupted. "Do you not suppose I have thought over all those things? Until this war is past I shall not even ask you to become my wife. My life belongs to my country and I would not have you alone here in a foreign land. All I ask is that I may write you and some day in happier times may I come to see my American friend?"

Mildred could only nod and let General Alexis keep tight hold of her hand, while a sense of the warmth and sweetness of the affection of a big nature slowly enveloped her.

Then, as they walked back to the sleigh in silence and continued in silence almost all the way back to the lodgings, Mildred could only keep thinking how much her father would like General Alexis. Once she smiled, because her next thought was how immensely pleased and impressed her mother would be. It seemed impossible that the plain and unattractive Mildred could have captured so distinguished an admirer.

Late that night, as she lay awake, Nona Davis' voice suddenly broke the stillness. The two girls were in the single bedroom, Barbara occupying a lounge in the sitting room.

"There is something I want to tell you, Mildred. The strangest thing happened to me this afternoon. Lieutenant Orlaff proposed to me. Why, I scarcely know him at all, but he says that is not necessary when a foreigner meets an American girl," Nona confided.

"You--why, Nona!" Mildred faltered, too surprised for the moment to answer intelligently, because her friend's speech so oddly fitted into her own thoughts. "Did you accept him?"

It was dark in the room, and yet Mildred could see that Nona had risen half way up in bed.

"My gracious, no!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "In the first place, I don't care for him at all, and in the second, I just want to get hold of my dear Sonya and return home to the United States. If your general does have her pardoned I shall say prayers for him every night of my life. Funny, but I believe I am afraid of Russia, even though I am half Russian.

Still, my mother did prefer to come to America to live. I simply couldn't bear living in Russia always, could you, Mildred?" Nona ended, as she again dropped back on her pillow.

But Mildred only answered, "I don't know," which was not in the least conclusive.

CHAPTER XVII

_The Departure_

Four days later the three American girls left Petrograd. This was sooner than they had expected to leave, but a desirable opportunity arose for them to get safely across the continent and into France.

The journey was a long and tiresome one, as they had to cross the northern countries of Finland, Sweden and Norway until finally they were able to reach Holland, and thence journey to England and France. But it was not possible to make the trip in any other way, since all of southern Europe was engaged in active fighting.

However, the Red Cross girls did not travel alone. Sonya Valesky went with them. At General Alexis' request the Czar had pardoned her, but she was an exile from Russia forever, never to return at any future time.

Fortunately for the imprisoned woman, her reprieve had come before her sentence had time to be carried out. She was brought directly from the prison, where Nona had once visited her, to the lodgings where the American girls were making ready to depart.

If Sonya regretted the terms of her pardon, she showed no signs of sorrow. But she was strangely quiet then and during the long, cold trip across the continent. In a measure she seemed to have been crushed by the weeks of solitary confinement in the Russian jail with the prospect of Siberia ever before her. Often she would sit for hours with her hands crossed in her lap and her eyes staring out the window, without seeming to see anything in the landscape. One could scarcely imagine her as a woman who had devoted her life to traveling from one land to another, trying to persuade men and women to believe in universal peace.

Yet she was sincerely grateful and appreciative of any attention of affection from the three American girls who were her companions. And after a short time Barbara and Mildred were almost as completely under the spell of this grave woman's charm, as Nona had grown to be.

Moreover, the girls felt that she had not yet recovered from her illness, because of the hardships following it. After a few weeks or months in the beloved "Farmhouse with the Blue Front Door" perhaps she would become more cheerful.

For it was toward the chateau country of France that the three American girls were again traveling. The little house where they had once lived for a winter had been Captain Castaigne's wedding gift to Eugenia. Since Eugenia was away nursing in a hospital she had offered her home to her friends. Madame Castaigne had also insisted that they come to her at the chateau; nevertheless, the girls had chosen the farmhouse.

The Countess was no longer young, and still had no servants save old Francois. The work of entertaining four guests, and one of them a stranger, would have put too great a tax upon her. Moreover, Eugenia would undoubtedly come back for a while to be with her friends and would naturally stay with her mother-in-law. The girls also hoped that Captain Castaigne might be spared for a short leave of absence. However, in order that the Countess Amelie should not be wounded, or feel that the girls no longer cared to be with her, Barbara had written to say that she would stay at the chateau whenever the Countess wished her society.

Certainly the trip from Russia into France during war times was a difficult one. The girls believed that they could not have made it, except that now and then they stopped for a day or more to rest. On these days Barbara and Nona used to spend at least a few hours in sightseeing, no matter what their fatigue. Now and then Mildred would go with them, but never Sonya. Occasionally Nona would urge her, saying that the exercise and change of atmosphere would be good for her. But Sonya used always to plead fatigue or a lack of interest. Finally she confessed frankly that she had seen most of these cities and countries before, and in some of them was fairly well known. Therefore it might be safer and happier for all of them if she remained quietly in whatever hotel they happened to be staying.

Yet Sonya appeared almost as anxious as her three companions to reach France and the "Farmhouse with the Blue Front Door." This, of course, was because the three girls had talked of it so continuously and the longed for meeting with Eugenia again. For somehow, although the farmhouse was in a war-stained country, its name suggested quiet and a brooding peace.

Nevertheless, several times, after mentioning Eugenia's name, Nona had observed Sonya's face flush and the expression of her eyes become almost apologetic. At first she was unable to understand this and then she remembered.

In the early days Eugenia had not liked their friendship with the woman who was then calling herself Lady Dorian. Indeed, in Eugenia fashion she had frankly stated this fact to the older woman. Now how much less might she care for their intimacy with the exiled Russian. Yet Sonya was going as an uninvited guest to Eugenia's home.

There had been no time to ask permission. It was true Barbara had written the entire story to Eugenia as soon as Sonya Valesky was released from prison. But one could not tell whether the letter would reach France as soon as the four travelers.

Nona felt that she would have given a great deal to have a.s.sured Sonya of Eugenia's welcome, but she was nervous over the situation herself.

Of course, Eugenia would be kind to the exiled woman and offer her hospitality and care. But Eugenia had rigid views of life and was not given to concealing them. It was more than possible that she might let Sonya know of her disapproval. Moreover, she might object to Nona's own championship of Sonya and to her purpose to return with her to the United States and there make their future home together.

Of course, no views of Eugenia's would interfere with this intention of Nona's. But the younger girl would be sorry of Eugenia's disapproval, since she too had learned to have the greatest affection and admiration for the oldest of the four American Red Cross girls. However, there was nothing to do except to wait and meet the situation when the time came.

Actually it was a month between the day of leaving Petrograd and the day when the four travelers arrived in southern France in the neighborhood of the Chateau d'Amelie. But this was because the girls and Sonya had spent some little time in London before attempting to cross the channel.

London was a delightful experience for the three American Red Cross girls. In some fashion the story of their varied service to the Allied cause had reached the London newspapers. For several days there were columns devoted to their praise. Later, invitations poured in upon them from every direction. Mildred was most conspicuous, since the story of her presentation by the Czar with the Cross of St. George was copied from the Russian newspapers into the English, and must have ultimately reached the United States press.

But the girls were not thinking of themselves or their work. They simply gave themselves up to the pleasure of meeting delightful English people and being entertained by them. Sonya would not go about with them, but appeared stronger and more content, so there was no point in worrying over her.

One of the English women, who was again gracious to the three American girls, was the Countess of Suss.e.x, at whose home they had spent a week-end on their first arrival in England several years before. Once more she invited them to her country home, but this time it was impossible for the girls to accept her invitation. However, Nona recalled her meeting in the old rose garden near the gardener's cottage with Lieutenant Robert Hume. She also thought of Lieutenant Hume's last letter telling her that he had been sent back to England as an exchanged prisoner because of his health. But when Nona inquired for the young English lieutenant, the Countess' expression checked further curiosity.

Suddenly she appeared very unhappy and distressed.