Lucie understood and was touched. His native state and her mother’s was the same, and he threw himself upon her tender mercies, so she set him to work, knowing he would be happier so. It was incredible what he accomplished in his week’s leave. He adopted the three women as “his fambly” with a niceness of distinction in his manner toward them which it would be difficult to analyze. He adored Lucie as the young lady of the house. He stood ready to carry out her every wish, and this in spite of aching head and tired frame, weakened by loss of blood. “But there is no fighting yet between the Americans and the Germans,” Lucie said to him, “how then do you come to be wounded?” “Hit happen dishaway,” replied Gus, very ready to recount the tale; “we alls marchin’ erlong de road. Den erlong come one o’ dese yer tu’key buzzard Bushes, flyin’, flyin’. ‘Look out,’ says de captain, an’ we alls jumps, but I ain’t jump fer enough, an’ I de onliest one git hit. I thinks ole Gabr’el blow his horn fo’ me sho nuff when de blood come a tricklin’ down mah face, but I reckons I good fer a while yet. De ole thing bus’ an t’ar up de groun fo’ all de worl lak ole bull. Miss Lucie, whar I gwine tote dish yer rubbage?” “Over to the very back of the lot. We are trying to get the place cleaned up from the front backward, so as to have it look nice around the house when my mother gets back.” “I wishes I had de time to cl’ar hit all up spankin’ clean fo’ yuh. I lak git de insides of de house all cl’ar.” “You are helping such a lot, Gus. I don’t know how to thank you.” “Ain’t yo ma fum ole Ferginny?” was all the answer Gus vouchsafed. At the end of his leave he took his departure, wistfully. He would do his duty, but he preferred the gentler ways, and would fain have lingered on, an obedient servant to a considerate young mistress. Even Paulette, who at first had regarded him with violent suspicion, came to see his merits and to appreciate his devotion. They were to hear of him again. Under the directions of _Les Dames Américaines_ the little town began to resume something of its old look. The good _curé_ helped with his own hands to patch up the church. More and more of the residents returned; then one day there marched in a company of the boys from overseas. An officer looked for places to billet them. The factories whose chimneys were gone, but whose walls stood firm, gave room for a certain number. One of the better houses was taken as headquarters. The streets became full of erect young men who made friends with the children, hobnobbed with the old men, did friendly acts for the old women, and generally made themselves popular. One of the first to stroll into Miss Lowndes’s little office was a young Virginian who appeared more than usually eager to ask questions. He wore the stripes of a lieutenant.