we
had at Talbot Court House when your husband was there. I think
the Colonel will remember him,--a black-whiskered man, who used
to sing a little song about _le vin rouge_ of Bourgogne.

He did not remember me; that I saw in a moment. It was all so
different, you know. In the hospital, I had on my cap and apron,
and here,--well, it was another thing. My hostess knew that they
were coming, and had me in her largest room, and I succeeded in
making them all sit down; and I received my formal welcome; and
I thanked in my most Parisian French; and then the conversation
hung fire. But I took my turn now, and turned round to poor
Louis.

"You served in America, did you not?" said I.

"Ah, yes, madame! I did not know my mother had told you."

No more did she, indeed; and she looked astonished. But I
persevered,--

"You seem strong and well."

"Ah, yes, madame!"

"How long since you returned?"

"As soon as there was peace, madame. We were mustered out in
June, madame."

"And does your arm never trouble you?"

"Oh, never, madame! I did not know my mother had told you."

New astonishment on the part of the mother.

"You never had another piece of bone come out?"

"Oh, no, madame! how did madame know? I did not know my mother
had told you!"

And by this time I could not help saying, "You Normans care
more for Christmas than we Americans; is it not so, my brave?"

And this he would not stand; and he said stoutly, "Ah, no,
madame! no, no, _jamais_!" and began an eager defence of the
religious enthusiasm of the Americans, and their goodness to all
people who were good, if people would only be good. But still he
had not the least dream who I was. And I said,--

"Do the Normans ever drink Burgundy?" and to my old hostess,
"Madame, could you bring us a flask _du vin rouge de
Bourgogne_?" and then I hummed his little chanson, I am sure
Colonel Barthow will remember it,--"_Deux--gouttes--du vin rouge
du Bourgogne._"

My dear Mrs. Barthow, he sprang from his chair, and fell on his
knees, and kissed my hands, before I could stop him. And when
his mother and father, and all the rest, found that I was the
particular _soeur de la charite_ who had had the care of dear
Louis when he was hurt, and that it was I he had told of that
very day,--for the