?"

"I am the Countess Stephanie Woronski," the little maid said; "and what
is your name?"

"My name is Julian Wyatt."

"It is a funny name," the child said; "but I think I like it."

Julian carried her to the fire, and seated her with her feet before it.

"Where is my cloak," she asked, as on setting her down she perceived the
deficiency; "and what are those ugly things?" and she looked at the
swathing round her arms and legs.

"Some bad men took your cloak," he said; "none of these men here did it;
and you were very cold when I found you, so I put some of the stuffing
from the cushions round you to keep you warm, and you must wear them
till I can get you another cloak. Comrades," he went on, to the soldiers
who had gathered round to look at the little figure, "this is the
Countess Stephanie Woronski, and I have told her that you will all be
very kind to her and make her as comfortable as you can as long as she
is with us."

There was a general hum of assent, and when the child went gravely among
them, shaking hands with each, many an eye was moistened, as the men's
thoughts went back to their own homes, and to little sisters or nieces
whom they had played with there. Soon afterwards the colonel came by,
and Julian, stepping forward, saluted him and said:

"I have picked up a little girl to-day, Colonel."

"So I have been told, Sergeant. I think it was a mistake, but that is
your business. Everyone is getting weaker, and you are not likely to be
able to carry her for long. However, of course, you can take her if you
like, and as long as there are horses to drag the ammunition carts you
can put her in them when you choose."

"It is only when we are fighting that I should want to stow her away.
She does not weigh more than a knapsack, Colonel."

"Well; just as you like, Sergeant. If you wanted to take along ten
children I could not say no to you. She is a pretty little thing," he
added, as he went nearer to her.

"Yes, Colonel. She says that she is a countess."

"Poor little countess!" the colonel said tenderly. "She will want
something warmer than she has got on now."

"We will manage that, Colonel. She will be warm enough as long as she is
on the march with me; but as, even before that fire, she has not enough
on her, we will contrive something. In the first broken-down
baggage-waggon that we come across, we are pretty sure to find something
that we can fit her out in."

As yet the pressure of hunger