Every morning people discover that rabbits or chickens are missing. Several garden-gates have been forced open, and palings torn away. The German patrols go out at night to water their horses and get food. They have been seen several nights crossing the ford at Voisins. This evening the battle lasted until nine o'clock. FOOTNOTE: [2] Delautre died suddenly eighteen months later. XI 7 September, 1914. ABOUT seven o'clock this morning English scouts arrived belonging to General Snow's division. For two whole days we had been alone, almost forsaken, it seemed to us. It's joy to see those khaki uniforms once more. They are as correct and as gentlemanly as ever, our friends the English. A young officer is kind enough to give us news, and good news, too. The Germans are beginning to fall back. Already a pontoon-bridge has been thrown across the Marne at Meaux. After trying to cross sixteen times, and sixteen times seeing their efforts of no avail, the Germans gave up the attempt to cross the river. The French General Staff has already arrived there, and Galliéni's army is advancing from Paris. All this good news fills us with joy. From now on we shall see no more Germans. Troops are beginning to arrive. A regiment of infantry went through Voisins this afternoon. These men have come on foot from Paris. What a fearful march! They still have several miles to go before reaching a cantonment. Some of them drag themselves along painfully, their faces streaming with perspiration, their legs tottering under their weight, staggering like drunken men. Others, with a show of cheerfulness, hum marching songs to keep up their courage, but what a monotonous sound it is! They are hot and thirsty, poor boys! They need something to drink. We go out with a pitcher of fruit syrup and water. They are not allowed to stop, so we follow on beside them and fill their cups which they take out hastily as soon as they catch sight of us. It seems to please them and renew their courage. My little nieces are with us. The eldest, aged three, is holding up fruit which she takes from "Gamma's ba'ket." One of the men, as if to find new strength in the touch of her fresh childish cheeks, asks if he may kiss her, saying with tears in his eyes: "I have a little girl of my own at home about her age, with light hair like hers." Several of the men kiss her as they march along, and it makes them happy. Poor things! Will they ever see again those little ones of whom our children remind them? * * * * * At the same moment, in a far-off home, the mother presses close to her breast her youngest born, who is asleep. The child stirs slightly. A gentle breath moves her fair curls. Do not waken, little one. Thy father kisses thee. The mother's face is growing worn. The sister is silent. The bride-to-be is on her knees. They all have but one thought--the Absent One!