p the pavement; but then, it is often the way of young men to do
supremely silly things.

* * * * *

The next day was fuss and bustle, from the private soldier's point of
view. They were marching back to the trenches that night, and a crack
company must take over with flawless equipment and in flawless bodily
health. In the afternoon Doggie had a breathing spell of leisure. He
walked boldly into the kitchen.

"Madame," said he to Toinette, "I suppose you know that we are leaving
to-night?"

The old woman sighed. "It is always like that. They come, they make
friends, they go, and they never return."

"You mustn't make the little soldier weep, _grand'mere_," said
Doggie.

"No. It is the _grand'meres_ who weep," replied Toinette.

"I'll come back all right," said he. "Where is Mademoiselle Jeanne?"

"She is upstairs, monsieur."

"If she had gone out, I should have been disappointed," smiled Doggie.

"You desire to see her, monsieur?"

"To thank her before I go for her kindness to me."

The old face wrinkled into a smile.

"It was not then for the _beaux yeux_ of the _grand'mere_ that you
entered?"

"_Si, si!_ Of course it was," he protested. "But one, nevertheless,
must be polite to mademoiselle."

"_Aie! aie!_" said the old woman, bustling out: "I'll call her."

Presently Jeanne came in alone, calm, cool, and in her plain black
dress, looking like a sweet Fate. From the top of her dark brown hair
to her trim, stout shoes, she gave the impression of being exquisitely
ordered, bodily and spiritually.

"It was good of you to come," he cried, and they shook hands
instinctively, scarcely realizing it was for the first time. But he
was sensitive to the frank grip of her long and slender fingers.

"Toinette said you wished to see me."

"We are going to-night. I had to come and bid you _au revoir_!"

"Is the company returning?"

"So I hear the quartermaster says. Are you glad?"

"Yes, I am glad. One doesn't like to lose friends."

"You regard me as a friend, Jeanne?"

"_Pour sur_," she replied simply.

"Then you don't mind my calling you Jeanne?" said he.

"What does it matter? There are graver questions at stake in the
world."

She crossed the kitchen and opened the yard door which Doggie had
closed behind him. Meeting a query in his glance, she said:

"I like the fresh air, and I don't like secrecy."

She leaned against the edge of the table and Doggie, embold