The Red Cross Girls with the Russian Army | Page 4

His experiences in the past two years had
given him a new point of view toward life. No longer was he willing to

be known only as his father's son and to continue being supported by
him. Before Dick married he intended making a position for himself, so
as to be able to take care of his own wife.
Nona also recalled that she was really responsible for their coming into
Russia. It had seemed to her that they must make their Red Cross work
complete by nursing in the largest of the Allied countries.
However, Nona had now to cease her reflections, for she had come to a
place in the road where she had been told to turn aside.
To make sure the girl opened her note and re-read it for probably the
tenth time. Yes, here were the three pine trees, green shadows against
the autumn sky, and here also was the narrow path that began alongside
of them.
After another fifteen minutes' walk Nona discovered that she was
approaching a hut of the poorest character. It was built of logs, with
mud roughly filling up a number of cracks.
Already Nona was learning to understand that the Russian poor are
perhaps the poorest people in the world. This hut was not so
poverty-stricken as many others she had seen; at least, there were two
windows and a front door.
Outside a hungry dog prowled about, showing not the slightest interest
in the newcomer. Yet Nona was vaguely frightened. She stopped for a
moment to reflect. Should she go in or not? The place looked ugly and
depressing and she could see no signs of human beings.
Yet perhaps there was illness inside the house and she had been sent for
to give aid. If that were true she must not hesitate.
As Nona lifted her hand to knock at the door, suddenly it occurred to
her as curious that the note she had received had been written upon
extremely fine paper and in a handwriting which revealed breeding and
education. Yet this peasant's hut suggested neither the one nor the
other.

But Nona was more mystified than fearful since her Red Cross uniform
was her protection, and these were not days when one dared think of
oneself.
She knocked quietly but firmly on the wooden door.
The next moment the heavy bar was slipped aside. Then Nona saw a
woman of about thirty-five, dressed in the costume of a Russian
peasant, standing with both hands outstretched toward her.
"My dear," she began in perfect English, "this is better fortune than I
dreamed, to find you once again, and in Russia, of all countries!"
CHAPTER II
A Former Acquaintance
"But," Nona began, and then hesitated, feeling extraordinarily puzzled.
The face of the woman before her was oddly familiar, although she
could not at the instant recall where or when she had known her.
Yet she remembered the deep blue-gray eyes with their perfectly
penciled dark brows and lashes, even the rather sad expression of them.
However, she must be mistaken, since she could have no acquaintance
in Russia!
However, she allowed herself to be quietly led inside the hut, where the
door was immediately closed behind her. Then the girl followed the
woman inside a bare chamber, furnished with only a few chairs and a
rough table. In an upper corner hung an ikon, the Russian image of the
Christ. The face of the Christ was painted in brilliant colors set inside a
brass square and this square enclosed in a dark wooden frame.
The ikon is to the Russian who is a Greek Catholic what the crucifix is
to the Roman Catholic. No orthodox Russian home is ever without one.
But after the first glance, Nona Davis gave no further consideration to
her surroundings. Before her companion could speak the second time

she had suddenly recognized her.
"Why, Lady Dorian, what has brought you to Russia? You are the last
person I expected to see! Since our meeting on board the 'Philadelphia'
and your stay at the Sacred Heart Hospital I have so often wondered
what had become of you, and if you were well and happy. You
promised to write me."
"Then you have not forgotten me?" Before saying anything more the
older woman found a chair for her guest and another for herself.
"No, I have not written you, but I have thought of you many times and
have followed your history more closely than you dream," she returned
quietly, yet with evident earnestness. "I have been well and I suppose
as happy as most people. How can any human being be anything but
wretched during this tragic war? If only we might have peace!"
Lady Dorian's face became white and drawn and Nona felt that she