our children, lest they forget joy!" cried Mother Meraut. She
smiled as she spoke, though her lip trembled "I will you the
truth, Henri, sometimes when I think of what the Germans have
already done in Belgium, and may yet do in France, I feel my
heart breaking in my bosom. And then I say to myself, 'Courage,
Antoinette! It is our business to live bravely for the France
that is to be when this madness is over. Our armies are still
between us and the Boche. It is not time to be afraid.'"

"And I tell you, they shall not pass," cried Father Varennes,
striking his crutch angrily upon the stone floor. "The brave
soldiers of France will not permit it! Oh, if I could but carry a
gun instead of this!" He rattled his crutch despairingly as he
spoke.

Mother Meraut sighed. "Though I am a woman, I too wish I might
fight the invaders," she said, "but since I may not carry a gun,
I will put all the more energy into my broom and sweep the dirt
from the Cathedral as I would sweep the Germans back to the Rhine
if I could."

"It is, indeed, the only way for women, children, and such as I,"
grieved the Verger.

"Tut, tut," answered Mother Meraut cheerfully, "it isn't given us
to choose our service. If God had wanted us to fight he would
have given us power to do it."

The Verger shook his head. "I wish I were sure of that," he said,
"for there's going to be need for all the fighting blood in