He tried to lift himself but fell back again. "You are spent. You must not carry this child any farther. Come; give her to me," said the woman. She took little Jeanne in her arms. The old man's eyes searched her face to try to fathom it. He tried to find there what he hoped to see: kindness. But all he saw was sadness. Suzanne Moreau (mō-rō´) was one of the many refugees who had fled from her invaded village. She was one of the few in that long line who marched alone. Suzanne had always lived alone, as long as she could remember. Her life had been a lonely one. She had been a dressmaker in the small town where she had lived. Everyone there had known her as Auntie Sue. She was Auntie Sue to children and grown-ups alike. The old man tried to fathom Suzanne as he looked deep into her eyes and watched her wrap little Jeanne carefully in her shawl. "I am quite alone," she said. "I am strong and shall make the march easily. Do not fear." She gave her hand to the old man and he kissed it. "God bless you," he breathed. Then he reminded her, "Remember: Avenue Champs Elysées, Madame Villard." She nodded her head. She smiled at him and was off. CHAPTER V SUZANNE It was a month since the day when Madame Villard had received two letters. Just a month had passed since the silver-haired lady and her daughter had pored over two such different letters. One was a scrawl--Paul's. He wrote that his baby was on her way to Paris to her grandmother. It was a dirty, scrawly note, but full of hope to the two who read it. The next letter, neat and precise, was from the government. Before they opened it, the two women knew: Paul's little one was now an orphan. For a month, how that mother and sister waited! With Madame Villard lived her daughter and her daughter's husband. They were the parents of Baby Margot. Margot's father had come back from the war. But though he had returned to his dear ones, he would never again be able to walk. He would be an invalid for life. So Margot's mother had two helpless ones to care for. And one of those was Margot's father. Grandmother had taken care of little Margot from the day of her birth. Starry-eyed Baby Margot was Grandmother Villard's charge--and a joyous charge to the old lady. But despite the happiness of her Margot, the heart of Madame Villard yearned for that other wee one--her son's little orphaned daughter. She waited longingly for Paul's child to be brought to her. She waited until she could wait no longer. Then she went out in search of little Jeanne. Madame Villard traveled to many villages in her search. She even asked the government to help her. She tried so hard to speed the little one's arrival. But she could not. The child was never brought to her. And now, to-day, a month having elapsed, Madame Villard was again preparing to motor through the country to search. She intended to stop at a little graveyard in the Argonne (är-gōn´) and pray.