In contrast, Mary Gilchrist never remained in the house an hour if it were possible to be away. Besides engineering the tractor and being a general express delivery for the entire neighborhood, she had formed the habit of motoring into Soissons, which was one of the large towns nearby, and offering her services and the use of her car to the hospitals. Occasionally she spent days at a time driving invalided soldiers either from one hospital to another, or else in taking them out on drives for the fresh air and entertainment.
It would therefore appear as if each member of the Sunrise Camp Fire unit had arranged her life with the idea of being useful in the highest degree, except the Camp Fire guardian.
As a matter of fact, Mrs. Burton often used to say that she found no especial reason for her presence at the farm now that Aunt Patricia had become the really important and authoritative guardian. Nevertheless, with that rare quality of personality which as a girl Polly O’Neill had infused into every interest of her life, there was nothing which took place at the farm or in the neighboring country which she did not in a measure inspire.
Once their household had been adjusted, it was true Mrs. Burton did not do a great deal of the actual work. Instead, and oftentimes alone, she wandered from one end of the French countryside to the other, occasionally returning so late to the farm that Aunt Patricia would be found waiting for her at the front door in a state of fear and indignation.
Nevertheless the country people began to watch and wait for her coming.
After a time she brought newspapers with her. Then they began to gather together in one of the larger huts to listen while she read aloud the war news, with not always a perfectly correct French accent, and yet one they could understand.
When they were weary of the reading she used to talk, speaking always of the day when France would be free and the invader driven beyond her boundaries, never to return. And among her audience were a few of the old peasants who could recall the Franco-Prussian war.
How amazingly these talks cheered the old men and women! Actually the daily round of toil once more became worth while, so near seemed the return of Victor and Hugo and Etienne. They would be happy to find the little homes restored and the fields green that had been drenched in blood.
Occasionally Mrs. Burton made her audience laugh until the tears ran down their wrinkled faces with funny stories of the trenches, of their own poilus, and the British Tommies and the new American Sammees.
Never had the great actress used her talent to a better purpose.