rican girl scarcely understood what was
being said. She was so many thousands of miles both in fact and in
thought from her own home and her own history. She could not believe
that her companion was telling the truth. In any case she was merely
mistaking her for some one else.

So Nona shook her head gravely. "I am sorry, but I don't think that
possible," she explained. "My mother was a southern woman, who lived
very quietly in an old-fashioned city. I can't see how your lives could
ever have touched."

Until this instant Nona had remained seated with her former friend
standing before her.

She did not realize how much she showed her resentment at this use of
her mother's name. Now she made an effort to rise from her chair.

"I am very happy to have seen you again," she protested in the formal
manner which Barbara Meade sometimes admired and at other times
resented.

But her companion was not influenced and indeed paid no attention to the
younger girl's hauteur. She merely put a restraining hand on her
shoulder, adding,

"It is not worth while for us to argue that point until you hear what I
have to say. The fact is, I know more of your mother, Nona, than you do
yourself. For one thing, your mother was also a Russian. She was older
than I, but we were together at one time in the United States. She went
to visit in New Orleans and there met your father and married. I knew
she had a daughter by your name, but curiously when I first met you on
board the steamer your name conveyed nothing to me. Perhaps the last
thing I expected was to find the daughter of your father, General Robert
Davis, serving as a Red Cross nurse. He was a conservative of the old
school, and I supposed would never have allowed you to leave home. But
after we came together again and I met you for the second time at the
Sacred Heart Hospital, I began to think of what association I had with
your name. Soon I remembered and then I endeavored to discover your
history. There was a chance that the name had no connection with the
girl I sought. But it was simple enough to make the discovery."

"Simple enough to make the discovery!" Stupidly Nona Davis repeated the
words aloud, because they puzzled her. Then it occurred to her that the
woman before her was so associated with mysteries that a family problem
must be comparatively simple. Doubtless she had been able to discover
more of Nona's mother's history than she herself had ever found out.

But No