Then Keineth thought of a confession she must make. "Is it dreadful, Daddy, but I have forgotten to be lonesome for Tante? I am ashamed because I do not think of her oftener. Where do you suppose she is?" "I saw her, my dear! Think what a coincidence it was! When I was in Paris one of the secretaries from the American Embassy took me around to visit the soup kitchens they have opened up there to feed the needy children of the soldiers at the front. At the very first one we went into, a woman in charge came up to greet us--and it was good Madame Henri! I might have known she'd be doing something like that! She knew me, of course--the tears ran down her cheeks as she clasped my hand. She couldn't say a word at first. She herself took us through the place and as it was at noontime, we stayed to see her hungry family. It was a sight I'll never forget--women, shivering in ragged clothing, with babes in their arms and gaunt, unhappy faces and eyes that looked at you as if they were eternally asking something and afraid to ask! Most of them had some scrap of dingy crepe somewhere about them--had lost their men at the battle-front! And little children gulping down the hot soup as though they were starved! Tante said it was the only meal most of them had during the day. After her work was over she and I went into a little room to talk. I knew she wanted to ask me about you--'her baby,' she called you. When I told her you were well and happy she broke down and sobbed 'thank God!' "She told me that her mother was dead and that her brother's wife and her little family were on a farm in northern France. When they did not need her longer she had gone to Paris to help. "'Give her my love,' she said to me--I knew she meant you. 'Keep her safe! It is my one comfort in these terrible days that she is not suffering! I love America--but I can never go back--my work is here!' I knew then that until the end Madame Henri would stick to her post and help wherever she could do the most good. She is a noble woman!" Keineth sighed. "It doesn't seem right to be so happy when others are not," she said, troubled. "But remember what she said--because you are happy is the one bright spot in Madame Henri's life! So it may be with others; you can always help someone." "You couldn't do anything else at the Lees'," broke in Keineth, "because Aunt Nellie is so kind and unselfish that we children are terribly ashamed to be anything else! Daddy--" Keineth stopped short; for the first time it crossed her mind that now that her daddy had come back her visit at the Lees' would end. "Where will we live now, Daddy?" He waited a moment before he answered. "I am going to ask you to decide that for yourself, Keineth." Keineth remembered then the night her father had made her decide between Aunt Josephine and the Lees! How hard it had been!