When she uttered the name of God she was, as it were, illumined. At that moment I understood what it is to hate the foreigner--the invader. My father’s subordination, my mother’s tears, and our house trodden, judged, appraised, by a stranger--those are sights that I can never forget. Later, when I read in my History of France that the Allies had crossed the frontiers in 1814 and 1815, and had come and encamped in our capital, when I learned that the Prussians had torn Alsace and Lorraine from us, like a part of our very flesh, I had no difficulty in giving material form to those past woes; I could most distinctly see that gentleman who went from top to bottom of our house as if he were at home. “Why did you bow to him?” Aunt Deen asked grandfather, who came in with his usual deliberate indifference. “I am polite to every one.” “One doesn’t compound with the enemy.” How could our father, who was not generally considered easy-going, have endured this outrage without faltering? He was in charge of our safety, and the exercise of power imposes obligations which irresponsible folk are apt to neglect. His good humour amazed us also on another occasion. One day at table he suddenly said to mamma: “Do you know what news is going about the town?” “I have seen no one.” “They say we are leaving town; the house being sold, we shall disappear. Our pride would never endure a less conspicuous establishment. And who do you suppose has spread the report? I give you a thousand guesses. But no, you have too much faith in human goodness. It is my beloved colleagues. They have discovered a practical method of sharing my practice among them. One after another my patients ask, ‘Is it true that you are going away? Stay with us! What will become of us?’ It is very touching. But I have reassured them.” He laughed,--the hearty laugh of a man accustomed to the fray. We were too young to perceive all the contempt and force that resounded in this victorious laugh, which in our indignation almost scandalised us. Especially Bernard and Louise, hasty and impressionable, protested vehemently against the odious implication, though indeed their opinion had not been asked. Our mother, even she, had blushed for the harm that had been devised against us, and which she herself would never have imagined. As for Aunt Deen, she doubled her fist at the enemy--“they” indeed had at last been discovered: “Oh, the monsters! I’m not a bit surprised. It would be no more than they deserve if they were compelled to swallow all their own medicines.” Her aspiration moved grandfather to hilarity. Till then he had been passive, but he was too much the enemy of doctors not to relish his sister’s prescription for vengeance.