er
feelings about peace to a man who was a great warrior. But General
Alexis did not appear angry. Indeed, there was no disagreement in the
expression of his eyes, it was almost as if he too felt as Mildred did.
Besides, his next words were:

"I too appreciate what you feel, Miss Thornton, and I too am sorry for
this Sonya Valesky. War is a great, a terrible evil, and there was never
a time when the world so realized it as it does now. It is my hourly
prayer that, after this vast bloodshed, war shall vanish from the face
of the earth. But this will not happen if we give up the fight while we
are in the thick of it. So Madame Valesky was wrong, so wrong that I
might think she deserved her fate, if I did not feel her more mistaken
than wicked."

General Alexis paused and his face grew suddenly lined and thoughtful,
as Mildred had seen it in those days at Grovno. Of what he was thinking
the girl did not dream, but neither would she wish to have intruded upon
his train of thought.

So she sat quite still with her hands folded under the heavy fur rug and
her gray-blue eyes fastened on the snow-covered landscape. Mildred had
grown handsomer since her coming to Europe. She would never be
beautiful in the ordinary acceptance of the term. But she was the type
of girl who becomes handsomer as she grows older, when character which
makes the real beauty of a woman's face had a chance to reveal itself.
Already a great deal of her awkwardness and angularity had disappeared
with the self-confidence, or rather more the self-forgetfulness which
her work had given her. Her eyes had a deeper, less unsatisfied
expression and her always handsome mouth more humor. For her own
experiences and the friendship with the three other American Red Cross
nurses had taught her to see many things in truer proportion.

"Miss Thornton," Mildred's attention was again aroused by her companion,
"I want to tell you something, but I want you to promise me you will not
have too much hope in consequence. I have been thinking of this Sonya
Valesky. I believe I can remember her father, or if not her father
himself, at least I knew him by reputation. He did not share his
daughter's views, but was the faithful servant of the present Czar's
father. Moreover, the Czar is my friend, so I mean to tell him the story
of Sonya Valesky and see if he will pardon her. She must, of course,
leave Russia, perhaps never to return."

General Alexis had been in a measure thi