illustrious father, fearful that the war might cut
off forever the dynasty of the Lacours, indispensable to the welfare of
the State, had had his son mustered into the auxiliary service of the
army. By this arrangement, his heir need not leave Paris, ranking about
as high as those who were kneading the bread or mending the soldiers'
cloaks. Only by going to the front could he claim--as a student of the
Ecole Centrale--his title of sub-lieutenant in the Artillery Reserves.

"What happiness for me that you have to stay in Paris! How delighted I
am that you are just a private! . . ."

And yet, at the same time, Chichi was thinking enviously of her friends
whose lovers and brothers were officers. They could parade the streets,
escorted by a gold-trimmed kepis that attracted the notice of the
passers-by and the respectful salute of the lower ranks.

Each time that Dona Luisa, terrified by the forecasts of her sister,
undertook to communicate her dismay to her daughter, the girl would rage
up and down, exclaiming:--

"What lies my aunt tells you! . . . Since her husband is a German, she
sees everything as he wishes it to be. Papa knows more; Rene's father is
better informed about these things. We are going to give them a thorough
hiding! What fun it will be when they hit my uncle and all my snippy
cousins in Berlin! . . ."

"Hush," groaned her mother. "Do not talk such nonsense. The war has
turned you as crazy as your father."

The good lady was scandalized at hearing the outburst of savage desires
that the mere mention of the Kaiser always aroused in her daughter. In
times of peace, Chichi had rather admired this personage. "He's not so
bad-looking," she had commented, "but with a very ordinary smile." Now
all her wrath was concentrated upon him. The thousands of women that
were weeping through his fault! The mothers without sons, the wives
without husbands, the poor children left in the burning towns! . . .
Ah, the vile wretch! . . . And she would brandish her knife of the old
Peoncito days--a dagger with silver handle and sheath richly chased, a
gift that her grandfather had exhumed from some forgotten souvenirs
of his childhood in an old valise. The very first German that she
came across was doomed to death. Dona Luisa was terrified to find her
flourishing this weapon before her dressing mirror. She was no longer
yearning to be a cavalryman nor a diable bleu. She would be entirely
content if they would leave her, al