their official notices and we're leaving to join their corps. Yet there
was no commotion anywhere.

"It will last three weeks and they'll all come home, safe and sound.
It's bothersome, though, that the Government should choose just our
busiest season to take the men out for a holiday!" declared one peasant.

There was less hilarity in the servants' hall when I entered after
luncheon. At least I fancied so. The men had gone about their work
quicker than usual, and the women were silently washing up.

"Does Madame know that the _fils Poupard_ is leaving by the four o'clock
train---and that Cranger and Veron are going too?" asked my faithful
Catherine.

"No."

"Yes, Madame--and Honorine is in the wash-house crying as though her
heart would break."

I turned on my heel and walked toward the river. In the wash-house I
found Honorine bending over her linen, the great tears streaming down
her face, in spite of her every effort to control them.

"Why, Honorine, what's the matter?"

"He's gone, Madame--gone without my seeing him--without even a clean
pair of socks!"

"Who?"