CHAPTER XVIII
A Poem and a Conversation
NOT the next day, but the one following, Barbara and Mildred walked over to the old chateau together.
Nona did not go with them, as Sonya did not appear to be well and she did not wish to leave her. So she sent a message of explanation to the Countess Amélie, saying that she hoped to be able to call upon her very soon.
It chanced that Sonya did not know of Nona’s decision. She was lying down when the girls went away and believed she had the little house to herself. Really she was not ill, only tired and perhaps happier than she had been in a long time. It is true that she had confessed herself defeated and that there was no longer any illusion in her own mind. Perhaps so long as she lived, war and not peace would flourish upon the earth. But the world learns its lessons in strange and dreadful ways and perchance peace might be born in the end from the horror and waste of bloodshed.
By and by, when she felt more rested, Sonya got up and went down into the old dining room of the farmhouse, which the girls had made into their living room. There was a possibility that the fire might be dying out and it would be wise to replenish it.
To her surprise Sonya discovered Nona curled up in a chair by the window, reading.
The older woman no longer wore black; it had become too depressing in a continent where more than half of the women were in mourning. She had on a simple frock of a curious Russian blue, made almost like a monk’s cowl, with a heavy blue cord knotted about her waist.
Nona stared at her friend for a moment in silence. It was curious that whatever costume Sonya Valesky wore seemed to have been created for her. Nona recalled the beauty of her clothes in their first meeting on shipboard, yet they held no greater distinction than this simple dress. Well, perhaps personality is the strongest force in the world and Sonya Valesky’s distinction, whatever her mistakes, lay in this.