"It was the German idea to break everything from the greatest to the least," thought Venna sadly. "What homes for these poor people to return to!"
An old man of seventy and a woman not much younger entered with the little girl. There was no smile of welcome on either face—they had forgotten how to smile, but their eyes looked eagerly questioning.
"Have you brought us news, madam—news—tell us—what about them?" the old man asked excitedly.
Venna's eyes saddened. After all, her great wealth couldn't buy the most important things in France!
"Now, my dear, good people, I have no news today. I have come to see what you most need and to try to help you."
The old folks looked disappointedly at one another and then the old woman turned to Venna in tears.
"Give us news of our children and we can get along."
"Come, my good people, let us sit down here somehow, and talk things over. Tell me all about your children—maybe I can find out something."
They managed to prop the chairs and sit down, the little girl clinging close to Venna as the one bright spot in the dingy home.
"How many have you away? Just where are they?" asked Venna.