She stood looking at Stormont, the heightened colour playing in her cheeks as she began to comprehend the comradeship between these two men.
Slowly she turned to Darragh, offered her hand: "I'll go to Harrod Place," she said in a low voice.
Darragh's quick smile brightened the sombre gravity of his face.
"Eve," he said, "when I came over here this morning from Harrod Place I was afraid you would refuse to listen to me; I was afraid you would not even see me. And so I brought with me -- somebody -- to whom I felt certain you would listen. ... I brought with me a young girl -- a poor refugee from Russia, once wealthy, to-day almost penniless. ... Her name is Theodorica. ... Once she was Grand Duchess of Esthonia. ... But this morning a clergyman from Five Lakes changed her name. ... To such friends as you and Jack she is Ricca Darragh now ... and she's having a wonderful time on my new snow-shoes----"
He took Eve by one hand and Stormont by the other, and drew them to the kitchen door and kicked it open.
Through the swirling snow, over the lake-slope at the timber edge, a graceful, boyish figure in scarlet and white wool moved swiftly over the drifts with all the naive delight of a child with a brand new toy.
As Darragh strode out into the open the distant figure flung up one arm in salutation and came racing over the drifts, her brilliant scarf flying.
All aglow and a trifle breathless, she met Darragh just beyond the veranda, rested one mitten hand on his shoulder while he knelt and unbuckled her snow-shoes, stepped lightly from them and came forward to Eve with out-stretched hand and sudden winning gravity in her lovely face.
"We shall be friends, surely," she said in her quick, winning voice; -- "because my husband has told me -- and I am so grieved for you -- and I need a girl friend----"
Holding both Eve's hands, her mittens dangling from her wrist, she looked into her eyes very steadily.
Slowly Eve's eyes filled; more slowly still Ricca kissed her on both cheeks, framed her face in both hands, kissed her lightly on the lips.
Then, still holding Eve's hands, she turned and looked at Stormont.
"I remember you now," she said. "You were with my husband in Riga."
She freed her right hand and held it out to Stormont. He had the grace to kiss it an did it very well for a Yankee.
Together they entered the kitchen door and turned into the dining room on the left, where were chairs around the plain pine table.