e
threshold.

"No, it is not, doctor dear," said Susan defiantly, as she picked up
Jims, who was opening his big dark eyes and stretching up his dimpled
paws. "Do not you put words in my mouth that I would never dream of
uttering. I am a plain woman and cannot argue with you, but I do not
thank God that anybody has to go. I only know that it seems they do
have to go, unless we all want to be Kaiserised--for I can assure you
that the Monroe doctrine, whatever it is, is nothing to tie to, with
Woodrow Wilson behind it. The Huns, Dr. dear, will never be brought to
brook by notes. And now," concluded Susan, tucking Jims in the crook of
her gaunt arms and marching downstairs, "having cried my cry and said
my say I shall take a brace, and if I cannot look pleasant I will look
as pleasant as I can."

CHAPTER XV

UNTIL THE DAY BREAK

"The Germans have recaptured Premysl," said Susan despairingly, looking
up from her newspaper, "and now I suppose we will have to begin calling
it by that uncivilised name again. Cousin Sophia was in when the mail
came and when she heard the news she hove a sigh up from the depths of
her stomach, Mrs. Dr. dear, and said, 'Ah yes, and they will get
Petrograd next I have no doubt.' I said to her, 'My knowledge of
geography is not so profound as I wish it was but I have an idea that
it is quite a walk from Premysl to Petrograd.' Cousin Sophia sighed
again and said, 'The Grand Duke Nicholas is not the man I took him to
be.' 'Do not let him know that,' said I. 'It might hurt his feelings
and he has likely enough to worry him as it is. But you cannot cheer
Cousin Sophia up, no matter how sarcastic you are, Mrs. Dr. dear. She
sighed for the third time and groaned out, 'But the Russians are
retreating fast,' and I said, 'Well, what of it? They have plenty of
room for retreating, have they not?' But all the same, Mrs. Dr. dear,
though I would never admit it to Cousin Sophia, I do not like the
situation on the eastern front."

Nobody else liked it either; but all summer the Russian retreat went
on--a long-drawn-out agony.

"I wonder if I shall ever again be able to await the coming of the mail
with feelings of composure--never to speak of pleasure," said Gertrude
Oliver. "The thought that haunts me night and day is--will the Germans
smash Russia completely and then hurl their eastern army, flushed with
victory, against the western front?"

"They will not, Miss Oliver dear," said Susan, assuming