A silence fell.
"And the kid, of course—He's a pretty nice little fellow," Archie added tentatively. "I don't suppose he'd be much of a—drawback?"
"On the contrary," said Nikolai. "I think he might be considered interest on the investment!"
Archie laughed with relief.
"I tell you, it makes me feel pretty comfortable to know that whatever happens to me they'll be safe! And to know that you'll be taking care of her, sir. She needs a good deal of taking care of, too—though she don't know it. Thinks she's as independent as a little pig on ice. But they're none of 'em independent, Mr. Nikolai—take it from me! They've got to be humored, and teased, and exercised, and petted—and the smarter they are the more petting they need. This high-brow business seems to leave people sort of lonesome in their hearts—you know what I mean?"
"Yes," said Nikolai, "I know what you mean—I shall accept your legacy gladly, Blair, if I am here to accept it. But—I am going to the war, myself. Not into the trenches, no. Into Russia."
Archie protested as Joan had. "But I thought Russia was not safe for you!"
"It is not. Nor for anybody else just now. There is something brewing there. You will see. And I think perhaps I can do a little something for both my countries, the new and the old. That is why I have come to America; to arrange my affairs, and to—say good-by."
"I get you," said Archie, simply, and held out his hand. His face had fallen. "Gee, supposing neither of us comes back? What will she do then?"
Nikolai gravely smiled. "Listen!" he said.