"Cartoons, too!" she added, when she saw how interested he was. "They particularly want cartoons, some of the editors. I did a series of that old von Stein after I showed the one of you knocking von Eichborn down." "Good heavens! You----" Would print it, he was going to say, but broke off, for she was laughing in a way that saved him from gulping down the bait. "But I'm not going to sell any cartoons unless I need to in order to pay the rent. I mean, it spoils the fun I get out of them." "So we are earning our own living, now," he said. His admiration was transparent. He had earned his and knew what it meant to get a start. Helen nodded. "I've got forty pounds already to go with the thousand francs. Let's see, that is almost four hundred dollars in American money! I'm a proud wage-earner and even consider becoming a bloated bond-holder!" She was smiling and laughing all the time, this changed, this free Helen, still uncousinly, a person apart, and buoyantly happy--until she caught a glimpse of herself in the small panel mirror opposite. Then her features relaxed. "And you?" she asked, putting out her hand for her book, which she had laid on the seat. "Have you got passage back to America yet?" "No. I----" And he told her briefly what he had done. With the very announcement, the mirror warning and another warning which sprang from the memory of the scene under the tree at Mervaux were forgotten in the impulse which made her lean across the aisle in passionate interest. "It was like you!" she exclaimed. "The old father and mother at home, what did they say?" She wanted to know all about it. "And Peter Smithers?" she added. "Not heard from yet," Phil replied. "It's surprising how you recollect Peter." "I'd like to make a cartoon of Peter; I don't know why, for I've never heard a dozen sentences about him. And in the artillery! Then you'll be doing the sort of thing we watched the _soixante-quinze_ doing at Mervaux. And you're a real sub-lieutenant! Aren't you proud?" "Oh, fit to burst!" "And you will be ordering people about and others will be ordering you about," she continued, returning to the mischievous vein. "I shall have to make another cartoon of how our newest subaltern looked to himself the first time he had on his uniform and how he felt when the general came to inspect his battery for the first time." Just then it occurred to Helen that she had talked enough; but it had not occurred to her to tell him that she had put her name down on a list which would ensure her wearing a uniform and working in a hospital--she who dreaded the sight of blood. No, this was her business. Now she took up her book again with a sense of relief, and settled well down in the corner of the seat, as if to make herself as small as possible. She held the book well up, her lowered lashes just showing above the cover's edge.