"I can assure you rashness is not in my line at all, and I don't suppose we shall ever get within five hundred yards of a Prussian soldier. You need not be in the least uneasy, even supposing that you were inclined to fidget about me?" "Of course, I should fidget about you," she said, indignantly. "After knowing you ever since I was a little child, naturally I should be very sorry if anything happened to you." "By the way," he said, without pursuing the subject farther, "I hear that there is a movement on foot for forming a corps of women. If they should do so it will afford you another illustration of the equality of your sex to ours in all matters, and I will go so far as to admit that I would much rather lead a company of the market-women than one composed of these Parisian shopkeepers." "Don't, Mr. Hartington," she said, appealingly, "I don't feel equal to fighting now." "Then we won't fight. Good-bye! If we are not lucky enough to light upon some empty cottages to sleep in I fancy the gloss will be taken out of this uniform before I see you again." He picked up his cap, shook hands, and was gone. Madame Michaud woke up as the door closed. "He has gone? your tall countryman." "Yes, he is going out to-morrow to the outposts. I think it is very silly of him and very wrong mixing up in a quarrel that does not concern him, especially when there are tens of thousands here in Paris who, instead of fighting for their country, are content to sit all day in cafes and talk." "They will fight when the time comes," Madame Michaud said, complacently. "They will fight like heroes. The Prussians will learn what Frenchmen are capable of doing." But Mary had no patience just at present to listen to this sort of thing, and with the excuse that her head ached went at once to her room.