Then the baby wept even more bitterly. "Why? Why, for so short a time?" it cried.
"You bother me," said the stork; and flew away.
And the cradle rocked and the baby wept and Miss Caroline Elliot sang.
They had arrived in Bomal ten days before—Louise, Chérie and Mireille—after a nightmare journey, through Holland and Flanders. At the station in Liège, Chérie, who was very ill, aroused the compassionate attention of the American Red Cross nurses and they obtained permission to bring her in a motor ambulance to Bomal. Nurse Elliot, a tall kind woman, accompanied her, and was permitted to remain with her and assist her during the ordeal of the ensuing days.
On their arrival Louise had not come straight to the house. She had not dared to bring Mireille to her home. She feared she knew not what. Would the child recognize the place? Would the unconscious eyes perceive and recognize the surroundings that had witnessed her martyrdom? What effect might such a shock have on that stricken, sensitive soul?... Louise felt unable to face any new emotions after the fatigue and misery of the journey and the hourly anxiety in regard to Chérie.
So she accompanied Mireille to the home of their old friend, Madame Doré.
Doubtful of the welcome she would receive, fearful of the changes she might find, Louise knocked with trembling hand at the door of her old friend's house.
Madame Doré herself opened the door to her. But—was this Madame Doré? This haggard, white-haired woman, who stared at her with such startled eyes?
"Madame Doré! It is I—Louise and little Mireille! Do you not recognize us?"