and it was tiresome to have to consult a
dictionary. So Sally lay still for a few moments listening to Mere
'Toinette singing the Marseillaise in a cracked old voice as she went
about her work downstairs.

Finally, stretching in a characteristically indolent fashion, Sally rose
and walked over to a window. She could only see through one small
opening. All the glass in the countryside had been smashed by the
terrific bombardments, and as there was no glass to be had for restoring
the windows, glazed paper had been pasted over the frames. The one small
aperture had been left for observation of climate and scenery.

Even without her birdseye view, Sally was conscious that the sun was
shining brilliantly. A long streak had shone through the glazed paper
and lay across her bed.

She decided that she might enjoy a short walk. She really had forgotten
Mrs. Burton's suggestion that no one of the girls leave the farm alone
and had no thought of deliberately breaking an unwritten law.

Mere 'Toinette and Sally had become devoted friends and also there was
an unspoken bond of sympathy between her and Jean, expressed only by the
way in which the old man looked at her and in certain dry chucklings in
his throat and shakings of his head.

As Sally was about to leave the front door suddenly Mere 'Toinette
appeared, to present her with a little package of freshly baked fruit
muffins. Sally's appetite in war times, when everybody was compelled to
live upon such short rations, was a standing household joke and one
which she deeply resented. Mere 'Toinette resented the point of view
equally, preferring Sally to any one of the other girls, and also it was
her idea that the good things of this world are created only for the
young. There was no measure to her own self-sacrifice.

A few yards beyond the house Sally discovered old Jean, who was
doubtless coming to find her, as he bore in his hand a French
fleur-de-lis, the national wild flower, which he had found growing in a
field as hardy and unconquerable as the French spirit.

Sally accepted his offering with the smile of gratitude which seemed
always a sufficient reward for her many masculine admirers.

With Mere 'Toinette's gift in her Camp Fire knapsack and with Jean's
flower thrust into her belt, Sally then made a fresh start. She had not
thought of going far, as the roads and fields were in too disagreeable a
condition.

Pausing about an eighth of a mile from the farm house