"I only knew there was danger of war the night it began," said Fred. "I
suppose it is on account of Servia, though?"

"Yes. That started it. They are Slavs, like ourselves. It is as it was
when we fought Turkey nearly forty years ago. The Turks were murdering
Slavs in the Balkans, and all our people called on the Czar to fight.
This time we could not let Austria bully a nation that is almost like a
little brother to Russia."

"I can understand that," said Fred. "I suppose there's enough of the
Slav in me, from my mother, to make me feel like that, too."

"Even after the way Mikail treated you? Tell me about that. Why did he
behave so, though I suppose you may not know?"

"I don't, really. My father is dead, you know. I and my mother are
alone. She has always loved Russia, though she calls herself an
American, and is one, and has always made me understand that I am an
American, before all. But she has taught me to love Russia, too. And she
has always told me that there were estates in Russia that belonged to
her, and would belong to me. She and my father were angry and hurt
because of the way her family treated them, but she said that some time
she wanted me to take possession of the estate, and to live for a little
time each year in Russia. She said that the peasants on the place would
be better off if I did that."

"Yes," Boris nodded. "That is what those who criticise us do not always
remember. Russian nobles do look after their peasants. The peasants in
Russia have not had the advantages of the poor in other countries. They
are like children still. My father is a father to all the people on our