“Oh, I never, never, never have been so glad to see people before!” she cried, jumping up and embracing Miss Patricia. “If you only knew what it has meant to stay here in a hospital with my nose glued against the window pane, when all the world is going mad with joy, you would be truly sorry for me. I think I should have tried to make my escape, if my doctor had not telephoned me I was not to think of going out for a moment. I suppose, Aunt Patricia, you managed to telephone him this instruction last night because you imagined the armistice would be signed today. But please everybody tell me at once just what you have seen and done.”
A quarter of an hour later, when the Camp Fire girls had grown silent through sheer fatigue, Miss Patricia said with unusual gentleness:
“Well, Polly, I am sorry you could not be with us today, although I did tell the doctor that he was not to allow you to go out for a moment under any circumstances. What have you been doing with your time?”
Mrs. Burton held up her book.
“Perhaps you could never guess! I have been reading a one-act play by France’s great Premier, Clemenceau. Did you know the old warrior statesman was a poet as well? His play is called ‘Le Voile du Bonheur,’ ‘The Veil of Happiness.’ It is the story of an old blind Chinese poet who is happy in the love of his wife and son and the devotion of his friends. I wish I knew French sufficiently well to be able to act in it. One day the old poet’s poems are recognized by his Emperor and he is told he may have any gift. He asks for the release of a friend who is a prisoner. Then the old man falls asleep and in his sleep his sight is restored. He wakens to find the friend he has released from prison trying to rob him, his wife loving some one else and his son mocking at his affliction. And in the end the poet prays to have his blindness restored that he may return to happiness. It is a melancholy little play. I have been hoping all day the world may never wish to be blind again.”
Getting up Mrs. Burton began walking up and down her little room, and a moment later, coming up behind Miss Patricia, suddenly put both hands on the older woman’s shoulders, resting her cheek on her hair.
“Aunt Patricia, none of us can leave France now the armistice is signed until peace is declared. Surely all of you feel as I do; we who have seen France in her suffering must remain here during her great release. I presume the peace commission will hold its sessions in Paris; no other city is apt to be chosen.”
Miss Patricia nodded.
“For once in my life, Polly my dear, I agree with you. Indeed ever since there has been a possibility of an armistice I have been thinking over what you have just said! We may be making a mistake, nevertheless, I am reasonably sure that Paris will be chosen as the place of meeting for the Peace delegates. Under the circumstances I have just rented a furnished house in Versailles for the next six months. Paris will soon grow too crowded to contain unnecessary women. Moreover, Versailles is near enough to Paris for us to enjoy whatever takes place here and will also be better for our health and our nerves.”