somewhat subsided among my servants. They were footsore, sleepy, and
hungry.

The gentlemen in frock coats were too busy in their own affairs to give
us much attention, and I was about to leave when one of them called me
over and asked a few questions. Anxious to be off, I answered briefly.
The man probably took me for a poor demented female; how could he think
otherwise down here in his little valley, where not a sound of gun and
shell had penetrated as yet?

History will tell you how, a few hours later, Jouy-sur-Morin was the
scene of one of the bloodiest battles of the Marne.

At the dairy, my appearance aroused much curiosity, and when I brought
out the money to pay for my milk, the woman held up her hand. "No,
never; I couldn't take pay from such forlorn creatures as you!"

This unexpected pity brought the blood to my cheeks. I was hot with
indignation. Until now we had wanted for nothing, and with gold in my
pocket charity was an insult. I straightened my tie, looked at my dusty
boots, and realized for the first time that my face was drawn with
fatigue and anxiety--that my hair, though tidy, was sadly out of curl.
Leaving my change on the table, I turned on my heel and departed.
Explanations were tiresome and useless.

We crossed a railroad track and then the river--the Grand Morin--and in
a grass-grown granite quarry halted for breakfast, sheltering ourselves
from the blistering sun in the shade of the immense rocks.

The boys took the horses down to the river to drink and bathe, and a few