uite accustomed--a
foreigner in a little hole on the road to the frontier, in a partially
evacuated country. I answered all the usual questions politely; but
when he began to ask how many men I could lodge, and how much room there
was for horses in the outbuildings, Amelie sharply interfered, assuring
him that she knew the resources of the hamlet better than I did, that
she was used to "this sort of thing" and "madame was not"; and simply
whisked him off.

I can assure you that, as I watched the work of billeting a regiment in
evacuated houses, I was mighty glad that I was here, standing, a willing
hostess, at my door, but giving to my little house a personality no
unoccupied house can ever have to a passing army. They made quick work,
and no ceremony, in opening locked doors and taking possession. It did
not take the officer who had charge of the billeting half an hour,
notebook in hand, to find quarters for his horses as well as his men.
Before the head of the regiment appeared over the hill names were
chalked up on all the doors, and the number of horses on every door to
barn and courtyard, and the fields selected and the number of men to be
camped all over the hill. Finally the officer returned to me. I knew
by his manner that Amelie, who accompanied him, had been giving him a
"talking to."

"If you please, madame," he said, "I will see now what you can do for
us"; and I invited him in.

I don't suppose I need to tell you that you would get very little idea
of the inside of my house from the outside. I am quite used now to the
little change of front in most people when they cross the threshold. The
officer nearly went on tiptoes when he got inside. He mounted the
polished stairs gingerly, gave one look at the bedroom part-way up,
touched his cap, and said: "That will do for the chef-major. We will
not trouble you with any one else. He has his own orderly, and will eat
outside, and will be no bother. Thank you very much, madame"; and he
sort of slid down the stairs, tiptoed out, and wrote in chalk on the
gatepost, "Weitzel."

By this time the advance guard was in the road and I could not resist
going out to talk to them. They had marched out from the south of Paris
since the day before,--thirty-six miles,--without an idea that the
battle was going on the Marne until they crossed the hill at Montry and
came in sight of its smoke. I tell you their faces were wreathed with
smiles when they discovered th