peace. To those who loved them, their death was not only heart-breaking, but brought with it a terrible sense of that most profound tragedy of war,—the bitter waste of spiritual promise. In everyday life they were of those to whom the senses carry a double message; all of us have memories of moments when a driven leaf, a slant of afternoon light, send through avenue of sight or sound an anguish no physical cause can explain—to these sisters, life was continuously bought at such a price, and the undue strain broke the too frail physiques.
It is almost a year since they died on the 19th of January, 1919. Three months later they were buried in France with military honors, and the French Government has awarded them the Croix de Guerre and the Médaille de Reconnaissance française. They gave to the world lives of shining promise and crystal purity, having followed Him who said to His other disciples: Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend.
The April sun;
But through them now no changes flow.
Of quiet years;
But now they know unchanging dearth.
[117]
