in an agony of tears. "Don't cry! he
is wounded, to be sure, but he will get well, though he can never again
fight for France. We shall see him every day, and by and by he will be
at home again with us."

Too stunned for speech, the Twins only kissed the blood-stained hands,
and then their Mother led them away. Under the western arches she
kissed them good-by. "Go now to Madame Coudert," she said, "and tell
her your Father is here, and that I shall stay in the Cathedral. Ask
her to take care of you for the night. In the morning, if it is quiet,
come again to me."

Dazed, happy, grieved, the children obeyed. They found Madame Coudert
beaming above her empty counter. "Bless you," she cried, when they gave
her their Mother's message, "of course you can stay! There are no pink
cakes for Pierre, but who cares for cakes now that the French are once
more in Rheims! And to think you have your Father back again! Surely
this is a happy day for you, even though he came back with a wound!"

V. AT MADAME COUDERT'S

The joy of the people of Rheims was short-lived. The Germans had been
driven out, it is true, but they had gone only a short distance to the
east, and there, upon the banks of the Aisne, had securely entrenched
themselves, venting their rage upon the City by daily bombardments.
From ten until two nearly every day the inhabitants of the stricken
City for the most part sat in their cellars listening to the whistling
of shells and the crash of falling timbers and tiles. When the noise
ceased, they returned to the light and air once more and looked about
to see the extent of the damage done. Dur ing the rest of the day they
went about their routine as usual, hoping against hope that the French
Armies, which were now between Rheims and the enemy, would be able not
only to defend the City but to drive the Germans still farther toward
the Rhine.

When the Twins reached the Cathedral the morning after the return of
the French troops, they found their Father resting after an operation
which had removed from his leg a piece of shell, which had nearly cost
his life and would make him permanently lame. Their Mother met them as
they came in. She was pale but smiling. "What a joy to see you!" she
cried, as she pressed them to her breast. "You may take one look at
your Father and throw him a kiss; then you must go back to Madame
Coudert."

"Mayn't we stay with you and help take care of Father?" begged Pierre.

"No," answere