home, and how the French pursued! It was breathless while it lasted! But
we did not see the end. The three Taubes were clearly driven back; and
in a few seconds they and the Frenchmen had disappeared in distance and
cloud towards the fighting-line. The following day, at a point farther
to the north, a well-known French airman was brought down and killed, in
just such a fight.

Beyond Léomont we diverged westward from the main road, and found
ourselves suddenly in one of those utterly ruined villages which now
bestrew the soil of Northern, Central, and Eastern France; of that
France which has been pre-eminently for centuries, in spite of
revolutions, the pious and watchful guardian of what the labour of dead
generations has bequeathed to their sons. Vitrimont, however, was
destroyed in fair fight during the campaign of 1914. Bombardment had
made wreck of the solid houses, built of the warm red stone of the
country. It had destroyed the church, and torn up the graveyard; and
when its exiled inhabitants returned to it by degrees, even French
courage and French thrift quailed before the task of reconstruction. But
presently there arrived a quiet American lady, who began to make friends
with the people of Vitrimont, to find out what they wanted, and to
consult with all those on the spot who could help to bring the visions
in her mind to pass,--with the Préfet, with the officials, local and
governmental, of the neighbouring towns, with the Catholic women of the
richer Lorraine families, gentle, charitable, devout, who quickly
perceived her quality, and set themselves to co-operate with her. It was
the American lady's intention--simply--to rebuild Vitrimont. And she is
steadily accomplishing it, with the help of generous money subsidies
coming, month by month, from one rich American woman--a woman of San
Francisco--across the Atlantic. How one envies that American woman!