h, on which were proudly displayed a galaxy of
fittings from a dressing-bag, the best, no doubt, that poor bombarded
Bar-le-Duc could produce in war time. There were ivory-backed hair and
clothes brushes; a comb; bottles filled with white face-wash and
perfume; a manicure-set, with pink salve and nail-powder; a tray decked
out with every size of hairpin; a cushion bristling with pins of
many-coloured heads; boxes of rouge, a hare's-foot to put it on with;
face-powder in several tints; swan's-down puffs; black pencils for the
eyebrows and blue for the eyelids; sweet-smelling soap--a dazzling and
heavily fragrant collection.

"Oh, my dear, what _did_ they think of us?" gasped Mother Beckett. "What
a shame the poor lambs should have wasted all their money and trouble!"

"It _mustn't_ be wasted!" said I. "Think how disappointed they'd be if
they came in here afterward and found we hadn't touched a thing!"

"But----" she protested.

"You wouldn't hurt the feelings of the saviours of France? I'm going to
make us both up! And there's no time to waste. They've given us fifteen
minutes' grace before lunch. For the honour of womanhood we mustn't be
late!"

I sat her down in the only chair. I dusted her pure little face with
pearl-powder and the faintest _soupcon_ of rouge. I rubbed on her sweet
lips just the suspicion of pink, liked by an elderly _grande dame
francaise_, who has not yet "abdicated." I then made myself up more
seriously: a blue shadow on the lids, a raven touch on the lashes; a
flick of the hare's-foot under my eyes and on my ear-tips: an extra coat
of pink and a brilliant (most injurious!) varnish on the nails. Then,
with a dash of _Rose Ambree_ for my companion's blouse and _Nuits
d'Orient_ for mine, we sallied forth scented like a harem, to do honour
to our hosts.

Luncheon was in a vast cavern of a vaulted banqueting-hall, in the
deepest heart of that citadel, where for eleven years Napoleon kept his
weary English prisoners. Electric lights showed us a table adorned with
fresh flowers (where they'd come from was a miracle, but soon we were to
see other miracles still more miraculous), French, British, and American
flags, and pyramids of fruit. The _Rose Ambree_ and _Nuits d'Orient_
filled the whole vast _salle_, and pleased the officers, I was sure.
They bowed and smiled and paid us compliments, their many medals
glittered in the light, and their uniforms were resplendent against the
cold background of