Of course in twenty-four hours he became the child of the house.  I feel like a grandmother to him.  As for Amelie, she falls over herself trying to spoil him, and before the second day he became “Monsieur Andre” to her.  Catch her giving a boy like that his military title, though he takes his duties most seriously.

The weather is dreadful—­cold, damp, drizzly, but he is in and out, and the busiest person you can imagine.  There isn’t a horse that has to have his feet washed that he isn’t on the spot to see it done properly.  There isn’t a man who has a pain that he isn’t after him to see if he needs the doctor,—­and I don’t need to tell you that his men love him, and so do the horses.

I am taking a full course in military habits, military duties, and military etiquette.  I smile inside myself sometimes and wonder how they can keep it up during these war times.  But they do.

This morning he came down at half past seven ready to lead his squad on an exercise ride.  I must tell you that the soldier who comes downstairs in the morning, in his big coat and kepi, ready to mount his horse, is a different person from the smiling boy who makes me a ballroom bow at the foot of the stairs in the evening.  He comes down the stairs as stiff as a ramrod, lifts his gloved hand to his kepi, as he says, “Bon jour, madame, vous allez bien ce matin?”

This morning I remarked to him as he was ready to mount:  “Well, young man, I advise you to turn up your collar; the air is biting.”

He gave me a queer look as he replied:  “Merci,—­pas reglementaire,”—­ but he had to laugh, as he shook his head at me, and marched out to his horse.

You do not need to be told how all this changes our life here, and yet it does not bring into it the sort of emotion I anticipated.  Thus far I have not heard the war mentioned.  The tramping of horses, the moving crowd of men, simply give a new look to our quiet hamlet.

This cantonnement is officially called a “repos” but seems little like that to me.  It seems simply a change of work.  Every man has three horses to groom, to feed, to exercise, three sets of harness to keep in order, stables to clean.  But they are all so gay and happy, and as this is the first time in eighteen months that any of them have, slept in beds they are enjoying it.

Of course, I have little privacy.  You know how my house is laid out—­ the front door opens into the salon, and the staircase is there also.  When the Aspirant is not on duty outside he has to be here where he can be found, so he sits at the salon desk to do his writing and fix up his papers and reports, and when he is not going up and down stairs his orderly is.  There seems always to be a cleaning of boots, brushing of coats, and polishing of spurs and rubbing up of leather going on somewhere.