In the evening I was crossing our principal street, and met Annette carrying several packages under her arm.
War kills one weakness which in men is insufferable, and in women difficult to bear; namely, false pride.
In such times, who can stop to think how he may appear to others? You are nothing more than a wonderfully small fraction of a great and complete whole. And it is this idea which makes you great, and lifts you above all petty thoughts.
How absurd we had grown to be. It had come to be regarded as improper for a well-dressed man or woman to carry a package while in the street; the dress of the ladies was so fashioned that they were obliged to use their hands to prevent it from dragging, and thus it was impossible for them to carry even the smallest package; but now all that was changed.
Annette told me that she and some other ladies were about to take a course of instruction from a surgeon, in the art of dressing wounds. She said this simply and unostentatiously.
CHAPTER VIII.
While Martella and I were on our way to the depot, in order to return to our home, we were encountered by a dense and impenetrable crowd.
What could be the matter?
"The Crown-Prince of Prussia is coming."
We stopped.