ed, groaning at having to leave
their temporary homes and return to the terrible fighting on the
Yser or in France.

There were, for example, the soldiers stationed at the Villa
Beau-sejour and at the Oudekens' farm. Vivie had a growing desire to
find out what had happened to her mother's property. One day, late
in February, 1918, when there was a premature breath and feeling of
Spring in the air, she called on her friend--as he had become--the
Directeur of the Prison of Saint-Gilles, and asked him--since she
herself could not deign to ask any favour or concession of the
German authorities--to obtain for her a permit to proceed to
Tervueren, the railway service between Brussels and that place
having been reopened. She walked over--with what reminiscences the
roads and paths were filled--to the Villa, and showing her pass was
received, not uncivilly, by the sergeant-major in charge.
Fortunately the officers had all gone, voting it very dull, with
Brussels so near and yet so far. After their departure the
sergeant-major and his reduced guard of men had begun to make the
place more homelike. The usual German thrift had shown itself. They
had reassembled the remains of Mrs. Warren's herd of cows. These had
calves and were giving milk. There were once more the beginnings of
a poultry yard. The rooms had been cleaned at any rate of their
unspeakable filth, though the dilapidations and the ruined furniture
made tears of vexation stand in Vivie's eyes. However she kept her
temper and told the sergeant that it was _her_ property now; that
she intended to reclaim it at the end of the War, and that if he saw
to it that the place was handed back to her with no further damage,
she would take care that he was duly rewarded; and as an instalment
she gave him a good tip. He replied with a laugh and a shrug "That
may well come about." ("Das koennte wohl geschehen.")

He had already heard of the Englaenderin whom the Kommandantur was
afraid to touch, and opened his heart to her; even offering to
prepare her a little meal in her own _salle a manger_. With what
strange sensations she sat down to it. The sergeant as he brought in
the _oeufs au plat_ said the soldiers were already sick of the
War. Most wanted to go back to Germany, but a few were so much in
love with Belgium that they hoped they might be allowed to settle
down there; especially those who spoke Platt-deutsch, to whom
Flemish came so easy.

From Villa Beau-sejour, Vivien