That of translator of newspaper articles to M. Vulfran, would that continue until M. Bendit had recovered from his illness? Here was another question that made her even still more anxious. It was on Thursday, when she reached the factories with the two machinists, that she found Monsieur Fabry in the workshop busy inspecting the work that had already been done. Discreetly she waited at a distance, not taking part in any of the explanations that were being made, but all the same the chief machinist drew her into the conversation. "Without this little girl's help," he said, "we should have stood here waiting with our arms folded." Monsieur Fabry then looked at her, but he said nothing, and she on her side did not dare ask him what she had to do now, whether she was to stay at Saint-Pipoy or return to Maraucourt. She stood there undecided, thinking that as it was M. Vulfran who had sent for her, it would be he who would send her away or keep her. He came at his usual hour, led by the manager, who gave him an account of the orders that the engineer had given and the observations that he had made. But it appeared that he was not completely satisfied. "It is a pity that the little girl is not here," he said in annoyance. "But she is here," replied the manager, making a sign to Perrine to approach. "Why was it you did not go back to Maraucourt, girl?" he asked. "I thought that I ought not to leave here until you told me to go back," she replied. "That was quite right," he said. "You must be here waiting for me when I come...." He stopped for a second, then went on: "And I shall also need you at Maraucourt. You can go back this evening, and tomorrow be at the office. I will tell you what you will have to do." When she had interpreted the orders which he wished to give to the machinists, he left, and that day she was not required to read the newspapers. But what did that matter? Hadn't her grandfather said that on the morrow he would need her at Maraucourt? "I shall need you at Maraucourt!" She kept repeating these words over and over again as she tramped along the roads over which William had driven her in the trap. How was she going to be employed? She imagined all sorts of ways, but she could not feel certain of anything, except that she was not to be sent back to push trucks. That was a sure thing; for the rest she would have to wait. But she need not wait in a state of feverish anxiety, for from her grandfather's manner she might hope for the best. If she, a poor little girl, could only have enough wisdom to follow the course that her mother had mapped out for her before dying, slowly and carefully, without trying to hasten events, her life, which she held in her own hands, would be what she herself made it. She must remember this always, in everything she said, every time she had to make a resolution, every time she took a step forward, and each time she took this step she must take it without asking advice of anyone.