mortification of the
consciousness of that nation across the frontier, which had battened
on its victory, and was so strong in brute force, that, however brave a
face one might put on, there was behind that smiling front always a
hidden fear of Germany--an eternal foe, ever gaining in numbers and
eternally shaking her mailed fist.

No nation so humiliated ever rose out of her humiliation as France
did, but the hidden memory, the daily consciousness of it, set its
outward mark on the race. It bred that sort of bravado which was
eternally accusing itself, in the consciousness that it had taken a
thrashing it could never hope to avenge. Count up the past dares that
France has had to take from Germany, so strong in mere numbers
and physical strength that to attempt to fight her alone, as she did in
1870, meant simply to court annihilation, and fruitlessly. That does not
mean that France was really afraid, but only that she was too wise to
dare attempt to prove that she was not afraid. So many things in the
French that the world has not understood were the result of the
cankering wound of 1870. This war has healed that wound. Germany
is not invincible, and the chivalrous, loving aid that rallied to help
France is none the less comforting simply because since 1914 all
nations have learned that the trend of Germany's ambition was a
menace to them as well as to France.

XXXIII

February 2, 1917

I had hardly sent my last letter to the post when news came that the
23d Dragoons had arrived safely at their new cantonnement, but here
is the letter, which will tell the story. Sorry that you insist on having
these things in English--they are so very much prettier in French.

With the Army, January 29
Dear Madame,

Bravo for the pretty idea you had in flinging to the winter breezes the
tri-colored flag in honor of our departure. All the soldiers marching out
of Voisins saw the colors and were deeply touched. Let me bear
witness to their gratitude.

How I regret La Creste. One never knows how happy he is until
afterward. I am far from comfortably installed here. I am lodged in an
old deserted chateau. There are no fires, and we are literally
refrigerated. However, we shall not stay long, as I am returning to the
trenches in a day or two. It will hardly be warm there, but I shall have
less time to remember how much more than comfortable I was at
Huiry.

We made a fairly decent trip to this place, but I assure