“No, I never shall until my country has no further use for my services, my dear. When that time comes, I shall be ready to settle down to the simple life in beautiful Haven Home and enjoy a real home-life with Tom and my beautiful adopted daughter. Elfreda, that child is entwining herself about my heartstrings more and more as time goes on.” “She is doing the same thing to me,” declared Elfreda. “You will have to divide her with me--I mean share her with me, Grace. I am as much her mother as you are, am I not?” “You are, of course, though my claim is a prior claim, which you as a lawyer must recognize.” They had a hearty laugh over this. It was late in the afternoon when Grace went out, first having knocked on Mrs. Smythe’s door but receiving no response. Grace inquired her way to the canteen, looking in the shop windows as she passed, enjoying the sight of stores once more. There were few of these left in rural France where she had been, and those that were left ordinarily bore the marks of shell fire. The supervisor was not at the canteen where Grace understood she was to be stationed, but Marie Debussy, the supervisor’s maid, was there and at work. Grace greeted her cordially and the girl appeared equally glad to see Grace. “How is Madame behaving?” she questioned. “There is no change, but I am here most of the time and do not see so much of her.” “You are satisfied here then, Marie?” “Oh, yes, it will do. The war will soon be over and I shall go back to my beloved France. Bah! These Germans! I like them not.” “None of us do, Marie. Is Miss Marshall with Madame?” asked Grace carelessly. Marie gave her a quick glance, a keener glance than Grace had ever seen from those eyes, after which the eyes lapsed into their former dullness. “I have not seen her since yesterday. I do not know. Do you know her?” Grace said she did not, and giving Marie a smile, stepped behind the counter and began her work as a canteen server. It was not the free life of the ambulance driver, but it was service, and Grace Harlowe was satisfied. But there was plenty of excitement ahead of her, even though life moved on in Coblenz much the same as before and during the war. Shopkeepers were overcharging the American soldiers, others were robbing them, and the situation was lax to an extent that disturbed Grace Harlowe. She said as much to Major Colt, who called at the canteen that evening to see her, and he agreed with the Overton girl, but said that the American officers were awakening to the possibilities and that something would be done. The major told Grace of his experience with the Germans after they dragged him from the Rhine, she in turn relating her own. He told of having seen her signal and of reading the message, and he was filled with admiration for Grace’s resourcefulness and cleverness.