with her ancient
Cathedral already partly destroyed. Encircling the landscape was the
crown of low hills where not for days but years the tides of battle have
surged up and down from victory to defeat, from defeat to victory, until
during the winter of 1917 and 1918 there was a lull in the world
conflict.

Finally the two girls came in sight of a field. Already a devoted effort
was being made to prepare the ground for an early spring plowing. Stray
bits of shell, the half of a battered helmet, the butt of a broken gun
had been laid in a neat pile, the larger stones had been placed beside
them.

Standing in front of a tiny hut which evidently had been partly burned
down, were an old man and woman busily at work trying to rebuild their
house. A small quantity of new lumber lay on the ground beside them.

"Dear me, I wish I were a carpenter, a mason, a doctor, I don't know
what else, and a million times a millionaire, then one might really be
useful!" Peggy exclaimed, as she and Vera stopped to gaze
sympathetically at the old couple.

The next instant their attention was also attracted by a child who was
sitting near the pile of broken stones and shells nursing something in
her arms. At first she did not observe the two American girls, although
they were facing her and not many yards away.

Her shock of dark hair looked as if it had been cut from her head in the
darkness, she had large unhappy black eyes and a thin, haggard face.

Finally discovering the two older girls, with an unexpected cry of
terror, she made a flying leap toward the house, still clasping her
broken doll, and hid herself inside.

At the child's cry the man and woman also turned as if they too were
frightened and yet unable to flee. For an instant Vera and Peggy saw in
their faces a suggestion of what they all too recently had endured. The
next moment the old peasants were bowing and smiling with unfailing
politeness.

"Do you think we might speak to them, Vera?" Peggy inquired. "Of course
we do not wish to be obtrusive, but I have a few groceries which I did
not give away in the village still remaining in my basket. It is
possible they might find them useful. How glad I am Yvonne Fleury is
living with us! Already she has taught me more than I could ever learn
in any other way about the French people, their gentleness, their
infinite industry and patience and above all their beautiful manners. I
hope no one of them will ever feel any American