ire most swayed her.

France would be so much nearer New York and therefore Dick's letters
could be so much more frequent. Then there was the Countess Castaigne,
to whom she could pour out all her heartburnings. Moreover, there was
the chance of every now and then seeing her beloved Eugenia.

But Barbara also remembered that she had always been the least brave and
determined of the four American nurses ever since their arrival in
Europe. Should she reveal herself in the selfsame light again?

At this instant Nona snuggled under the blanket beside the younger girl.

The Russian winter was fast approaching and frequently it was bitterly
cold. Besides, there were no chairs in the Red Cross girls' bedroom,
only the three beds and some stools, so it was simpler to lie down than
be seated.

"I have a long story to tell you, Bab, and I want your advice, only I
think we had best wait for Mildred, so you may not have to hear
everything twice," Nona began.

"You mean about Sonya Valesky?" Barbara queried. Of course Nona had told
her two friends of Sonya's arrest, but had not been able to go into the
details of the story, nor had she mentioned her own intentions. Very
possibly both the girls would disapprove, as Lieutenant Orlaff had done,
of her becoming more closely involved with Sonya Valesky's history.

Fortunately Mildred appeared at the door without further delay.

But when she entered the room, both of her companions could see that she
also had something of importance upon her mind which she wished to
discuss at once.

Instead of lying down, Mildred immediately seated herself upon the edge
of her cot, facing her friends. Then she drew her own blanket up around
her shoulders.

"Girls," she began, "I don't usually do the talking, but I want both of
you to listen to me for a few moments tonight. I have been trying to
speak of this for several days, and if I don't tell you now the order
may come when you are wholly unprepared. We are to be sent back to
Petrograd as soon as a safe escort can be found for us."

"Sent back to Petrograd! Thank fate for even so much!" Barbara
whispered under the cover. "Petrograd might be the beginning of a return
journey to France."

Then she drew her chin up, endeavoring to appear deeply wounded.

"Do you mean, Mildred, that our services as Red Cross nurses are not
considered valuable?" she demanded. "Why, only today one of the Russian
surgeons declared that it was difficult to deci