said she, blushing as she spoke. "Do you like the life of a soldier?"
"Very much, and especially when I am wounded, with such excellent care and company."
"But your side—it was so horribly torn. I did feel very sorry—indeed I did. You will go again to the war?"
"Unless—unless— Ah, yes, ma'm'selle, I shall go again to the war," I stammered, going to the brink of confession, only to back away from it, as the blood came hot to my cheeks.
She broke a tiny bough and began stripping its leaves.
"Tell me, do you love the baroness?" she inquired as she whipped a swaying bush of brier.
The question amazed me. I laughed nervously.
"I respect, I admire the good woman—she would make an excellent mother," was my answer.
"Well spoken!" she said, clapping her hands. "I thought you were a fool. I did not know whether you were to blame or—or the Creator."
