“I wish I knew myself.”

“And when can we meet?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible.  We’re off again to-night for God knows where!”

And H. seeing that he was already far behind his companions, threw me a hasty adieu and was gone!

The colonel was absent, but would return tout de suite, and Madame Macberez and I lost nearly an hour waiting.  When he appeared, however, he was most gracious, excused himself very politely and immediately stamped my card.  Then having all the necessary papers, I begged Madame to drop me at the hotel, and to return to her bureau, where I knew there was work enough for a half-dozen such as she.  She did as I requested, and we parted—­she promising to visit Villiers as soon as she could dispose of an afternoon.

I was the only woman in the hotel dining room for luncheon.  The food was good, but the service impossible, as there were some forty men, mostly officers, very hungry, and only one decrepit waiter to do the work.  Good humor prevailed, each diner making allowances, and here for the first time I heard that expression, destined to become so popular as an excuse for almost anything:  Cest la guerre!

My chauffeur kept me waiting, but my friend the alderman was on time.  Finally the motor made its appearance.  Something had happened on leaving St. Paul in the morning and the poor hotelier had searched the entire city for a mechanic, but to no avail.  All were au service de l’armee.  Finally he had had to patch up things as best he could.  As to an extra inner tube—­such a thing didn’t exist.  We would have to take our chances with the wheel he had.

We started, but hadn’t gone two hundred yards when a back tire blew off!

Well, thank goodness, we hadn’t left town.  So I returned to the hotel, and while Huberson and the alderman were fixing up damages and adjusting the emergency wheel, I had time to read all the back numbers of Illustration, which the Soled d’Or possessed, and commence a conversation with the proprietress, who sat in the court shelling peas for dinner.  She was certain that the war would be over in three months at the utmost!

At length I went out to see if I couldn’t be of some assistance in the motor business, but Huberson said it would be ready in a few moments.  As far as I could make out, my alderman friend was mostly a decorative personality, for he stood there with his hat on the back of his head, gesticulating vehemently, but never deigning to help my chauffeur in the slightest manner.  When I asked him if he knew Soissons well and inquired if he could direct me to certain grocers where I could perhaps obtain a few provisions, he insisted on showing me the shops, with an alacrity which proved his incompetence at motor repairing.

During that short promenade on foot, we encountered the whole Ninth Territorial Regiment—­not under arms but au repos.  The men were seated in front of the barracks reading the papers or idly smoking their pipes, and all yearning for “something to do.”  Their wish, I fear, has been more than satisfied.