ad gone away, she had
devoted, with a new passionate zeal, all the time she could spare from
the sick woman to the comforts of the men. No longer restrained by the
tightly drawn purse-strings of Aunt Morin, but with money of her own
to spend--and money restored to her by these men's dear and heroic
comrade--she could give them unexpected treats of rich coffee and
milk, fresh eggs, fruit.... She mended and darned for them and
suborned old women to help her. She conspired with the Town Major to
render the granary more habitable; and the Town Major, who had not to
issue a return for a centime's expense, received all her suggestions
with courteous enthusiasm. Toinette taking good care to impress upon
every British soldier who could understand her, the fact that to
mademoiselle personally and individually he was indebted for all these
luxuries, the fame of Jeanne began to spread through that sector of
the front behind which lay Frelus. Concurrently spread the story of
Doggie Trevor's exploit. Jeanne became a legendary figure, save to
those thrice fortunate who were billeted on _Veuve Morin et Fils,
Marchands des Foins en Gros et Detail_, and these, according to their
several stolid British ways, bowed down and worshipped before the slim
French girl with the tragic eyes, and when they departed, confirmed
the legend and made things nasty for the sceptically superior private.

So, on the day of the funeral of Aunt Morin, the whole of the billet
sent in a wreath to the house, and the whole of the billet attended
the service in the little church, and they marched back and drew up by
the front door--a guard of honour extending a little distance down the
road. The other men billeted in the village hung around, together with
the remnant of the inhabitants, old men, women and children, but kept
quite clear of the guarded path through which Jeanne was to pass. One
or two officers looked on curiously. But they stood in the background.
It was none of their business. If the men, in their free time, chose
to put themselves on parade, without arms, of course, so much the
better for the army.

Then Jeanne and the old cure, in his time-scarred shovel-hat and his
rusty soutane, followed by Toinette, turned round the corner of the
lane and emerged into the main street. A sergeant gave a word of
command. The guard stood at attention. Jeanne and her companions
proceeded up the street, unaware of the unusual, until they entered
between the firs