One morning Major d'Artrot (dÄr-tro) received a letter from an old friend. It was a good friend: Madame Villard. Madame Villard wrote that she expected to spend a night at the Major's inn. A tiny tumbled farm was Major d'Artrot's Inn. Before the war it had been his fine and prosperous home. But the Major had been obliged to turn his home into a hotel. For the war had made him a poor man. THE BLOODY TREE THE BLOODY TREE Fighting and scenes of horror had taken place on that peaceful farm. It In the Major's garden stands the "Bloody Tree." The name is enough to tell what happened beneath its tall branches. A pole with wires still stands outside the Major's house. It is a telegraph pole raised by the American There were the German helmets captured during that last battle. There were many, many reasons why travelers were drawn to Major d'Artrot's farm. So Major d'Artrot turned his house into a hotel. One of his dearest friends was Madame Villard. She had helped make life easier for the Major and for his little brood. During the long years following the death of her son, the Major had tried He had at last gathered for her the information that on that famous march an old peasant had been seen with a baby. Some one had seen him. But he had fallen on the weary march. They knew that. But they did not know about the baby. Nobody could tell Madame Villard what had happened to the baby. To-day the Major received Madame Villard's letter. And he thought of the little black figure which soon would step from the big, glossy car. She would take what comfort this poor family could provide. She would make happy the Major's children with gifts and toys. Her simple room would be generously paid for. Then Madame would leave them, and to the near-by cemetery she would go. She would visit it, before starting the journey homeward to Paris and to her little Margot. Usually these visits of Madame Villard occurred after a tour of the country. Those tours took her "Madame is here," called the Major's youngest. "The big bright car is outside. See! Madame is coming in." A flock of eager youngsters gathered about the little lady. She kissed them all and then sat down in the coolness of the Major's hallway. "I have traveled far," she told the Major, after they were settled comfortably. The Major's children were outside in their arbor opening wonderful packages. The Major's children were not starved for play. True, Madame Villard MAJOR d'ARTROT AND HIS FAMILY MAJOR d'ARTROT AND HIS FAMILY Happy little d'Artrots! The Major did not worry because they were so "Through Verdun (ver-dun´) and Reims (remz) and the valley of the Meuse (muz) I have traveled, dear Major d'Artrot," said Madame Villard. "My travels have now become a habit. There is surely no more hope. But on and on I go." REIMS CATHEDRAL REIMS CATHEDRAL Major d'Artrot took her hand. "You must not say that, dear Madame," he answered. "There is always hope. And remember what joy you bring with your visits to us. We are always so glad to see you." Madame thanked the Major and smiled. "You are kind," she said. "I am always happy here with you and with "So soon? That is a pity," the Major said. "No," smiled Madame Villard. "My little Margot's birthday is coming soon. I have promised to return and see to a very important part of her celebration." Madame Villard's eyes were now twinkling. "Can you guess what that very important part might be for a young miss and her birthday?" "No, I am afraid I do not know," the Major said. "Well, dear Major, the young miss is to have a party frock which Grandmother "Yes," laughed Major d'Artrot, "very important and serious!" Then Major d'Artrot pulled a little card out of his pocket and showed it to Madame. "And since Mademoiselle (m?d-mw?-zel´) Margot is to have a beautiful frock," he said, "why do you not take her to this old friend of mine who makes some of the loveliest frocks in Paris?" Madame Villard read the card and then looked up at the Major questioningly. VERDUN VERDUN He continued, "Suzanne Moreau lived in the village adjoining my farm before that village was destroyed by the enemy. She was a demure little dressmaker, and we knew her, my wife and I, as a kindly and lonely soul. Now THE MEUSE THE MEUSE "Auntie Sue's Shop," she read. "Yes, indeed," she answered, "I have heard. But Margot and I have never been to the shop. Now since I know that they are friends of yours, we will surely go." "Ah, you are kind," said the Major. "Auntie Sue deserves what little one can do to help. She is struggling alone and works very hard. I assure you, dear Madame Villard, that she is a most deserving and honest person." "I believe that," smiled Madame, patting the Major's hand. "For to be a friend of yours, one is obliged to be deserving, honest, and kind." |