k at her in the
street. Monsieur le Capitaine, you should be proud of such a beautiful
wife."

"I am," the man answered, "proud of her beauty, more proud of her
heart."

"But it is I who am proud!" the woman caught him up. "He has lost his
dear eyes that all women admired, yet he has won honours such as few men
have. What does it matter about my poor hair? You can see by the ribbons
on his breast, Mademoiselle, what he is--what he has done for his
country. You also, Monsieur, you see----"

"I don't see, Madame, because I, too, am blind," said Brian. "But I
feel--I feel that your husband has won something which means more than
his eyes, more than all his honours and decorations: a great love."

"You are _blind_!" exclaimed the Frenchwoman. "I should never have
guessed. Ah, Madame, it is I who must now ask your pardon! I called you
'Mademoiselle.' Already I had forgiven you what you said in error. But I
did not understand, or the forgiveness would have been easier. Your
first thought was for your husband--your blind husband--just as my
thought always is and will be for mine! You wanted him to have a place
by the fire. Your temper was in arms, not for yourself, but for him--his
comfort. How well I understand now! Madame, you and I have the same
cross laid upon us. But it's a cross of honour. It is _le croix de
guerre_!"

"I wish I had a right to it!" Dierdre broke out. "I haven't, because he
is not my husband. He doesn't care for me--except maybe, as a friend.
But to atone to him for injustice, to punish myself for hurting _you_,
I'll confess something. I'd marry him to-morrow, blind as he is--perhaps
_because_ he is blind!--and be happy and proud all my life--if he would
have me. Only,--_I know he won't_."

"My child! I care too much for you," Brian answered, after an instant of
astonished silence, "far too much to take you at your word. Some men
might--but not I! Monsieur le Capitaine here, and Madame, were husband
and wife before their trouble came. That is different----"

"No!" cried the woman whose name was Suzanne. "It is not different. My
husband's the one man on earth for me. If we were not married--if he had
lost his legs and arms as well as his eyes, I'd still want to be his
wife--want it more than a kingdom."

"You hear, Monsieur," her husband said, laughing a little, and holding
her close, with that perfect independence of onlookers which the French
have when they're thoroughly in love.

"I hear, Ma