ation to her, and on the second day she came rapidly to the
conclusion that she would die of _ennui_ if she attempted to endure it
any longer.

She did not arouse Mademoiselle's voluble protests by announcing her
decision. Mademoiselle was busy with the boys, and what was the good? She
was her own mistress, and felt in no way called upon to ask her
governess's leave.

Her foot was much better. The nurse had strapped it for her, and, beyond
some slight stiffness in walking, it caused her no pain. Her hair was
tied discreetly back with a black ribbon. It ought to have been plaited,
but as Mademoiselle had no time to bestow upon it and Chris herself
couldn't be bothered, it hung in glory below the confining ribbon to her
waist.

Whistling to Cinders, who was lying in the sunshine snapping at flies,
she rose from her chair in the shade, dropped the crochet with which
Mademoiselle had supplied her on the grass, and limped to the gate that
opened on to the _plage_.

At this juncture a rhythmical, unmistakable sound made her pause. A quick
gleam of pleasure shone in her blue eyes. She turned her head eagerly. A
troop of soldiers were approaching along the _plage_.

Sheer fun flashed into the girl's face. With a sudden swoop she caught up
the lazy Cinders.

"Now you are not to say anything," she cautioned him. "Only when I tell
you, you are to salute. And mind you do it properly!"

Cinders licked the animated face so near his own. When not drawn by his
one particular vice, he was always ready to enter into any little game
that his mistress might devise. He watched the oncoming soldiers with
interest, a slight frown between his brows.

The soldiers were interested also. Chris of the merry eyes was not a
spectacle to pass unheeding. She smiled upon them--there were about forty
of them--with the simplicity of a child.

Rhythmically the blue and red uniforms began to swing past. Their wearers
stared and grinned at the smiling little _Anglaise_ who was so naively
pleased to see them.

She raised an imperious hand. "Cinders, salute!" And into Cinders' ear
she whispered, "They are only French, chappie, but you mustn't mind."

And Cinders, quite unconcerned, obeyed his mistress's behest and lifted a
rigid paw to his head.

A murmur of appreciation ran through the ranks. The grins widened. One
boy, with bold admiration for the _petite Anglaise_ in his black eyes,
raised his hand abruptly and saluted in return. Every man w