m that Aunt Patricia would be
found waiting for her at the front door in a state of fear and
indignation.

Nevertheless the country people began to watch and wait for her coming.

After a time she brought newspapers with her. Then they began to gather
together in one of the larger huts to listen while she read aloud the
war news, with not always a perfectly correct French accent, and yet one
they could understand.

When they were weary of the reading she used to talk, speaking always of
the day when France would be free and the invader driven beyond her
boundaries, never to return. And among her audience were a few of the
old peasants who could recall the Franco-Prussian war.

How amazingly these talks cheered the old men and women! Actually the
daily round of toil once more became worth while, so near seemed the
return of Victor and Hugo and Etienne. They would be happy to find the
little homes restored and the fields green that had been drenched in
blood.

Occasionally Mrs. Burton made her audience laugh until the tears ran
down their wrinkled faces with funny stories of the trenches, of their
own _poilus_, and the British Tommies and the new American Sammees.

Never had the great actress used her talent to a better purpose.

At least it gained for her from these simple and almost heart broken
peasants the eternal tribute of laughter and tears.

Her greatest triumph was when Grand'mere, one of the oldest women in the
little village of M--, was at last persuaded to pour forth her story.

In more than three years she had not spoken except to answer "Yes" or
"No," or now and then to make known her simple needs, not since the
Germans carried off her granddaughter, Elsie. Elsie was the acknowledged
beauty and belle of the countryside and engaged to marry Captain
Francois Dupis, who was fighting with his regiment at Verdun.

Mrs. Burton had gotten into the habit of stopping at Grand'mere's tiny
hut, which her neighbors had restored. At first she brought the old
woman little gifts of food in which she seemed not to take the least
interest. Now and then she talked to her, although the old woman seldom
replied except to nod her head with grave courtesy.

Then one day without any warning as Mrs. Burton was standing near,
Grand'mere drew her new friend down into her lap and poured out her
heart-broken story. It left the younger woman ill and shaken.

Afterwards returning late to the farm alone and entirely unafraid,