dramatic instinct, Soeur Julie drew a striking picture of the contrast
between the behaviour of the French officer going down to the basement
to visit the wounded German officers there, and that of the German
officers on a similar errand. She conveyed with perfect success the cold
civility of the Frenchman, beginning with a few scathing words about the
treatment of the town, and then proceeding to an investigation of the
personal effects of the Boche officers.

"Your papers, gentlemen? Ah! those are private letters--you may retain
them. Your purses?"--he looks at them--"I hand them back to you. Your
note-books? _Ah! ça--c'est mon affaire!_ (that's my business). I wish
you good morning."

Soeur Julie spoke emphatically of the drunkenness of the Germans. They
discovered a store of "Mirabelle," a strong liqueur, in the town, and
had soon exhausted it, with apparently the worst results.

Well!--the March afternoon ran on, and we could have sat there listening
till dusk. But our French officers were growing a little impatient, and
one of them gently drew "the dear sister," as every one calls her,
towards the end of her tale. Then with regret one left the plain
parlour, the little hospital which had played so big a part, and the
brave elderly nun, in whom one seemed to see again some of those
qualities which, springing from the very soil of Lorraine, and in the
heart of a woman, had once, long years ago, saved France.

* * * * *

How much there would be still to say about the charm and the kindness of
Lorraine, if only this letter were not already too long! But after the