For the time being he said nothing about it to Henriette, but occasionally his glance stole away from her toward Helen, who kept on with her labour. The breeze carried her voice and laugh, which was like a rich echo of Henrietta's, and at length he heard her singing a French song, in which the other workers joined. Time passed rapidly watching the figures in the field and Henriette--too rapidly. "We are started, though there is nothing to see," said Henriette finally. "We will rest till after luncheon." The peasants, too, had stopped work. They were seating themselves on the sheaves or sprawling on the hard, dry, yellow stubble for their mid-day meal. He heard them laugh at some sally of Helen's before she started across the field toward where he was sitting. Flushed from the sun and exercise, she cried out, as she approached: "They say I do it like a veteran! It was great fun--and I was helping France!" Phil had been envying her the exercise and told her so. "There's room for volunteers," she suggested. And she looked at him and then at Henriette. "I dare you both to come out there this afternoon!" she added. "Done--if your sister will let me off! Will you?" Henriette shot one of her quick glances at Helen. "Perhaps you will volunteer, too," Helen parried. "Why not? I'm game!" Henriette replied. "Good! It's the best way of helping that I know. They are very hard pressed to get the grain cut before it is overripe. It will be straight sickling this afternoon on the Pigou patch. Poor Madame Pigou's son is at the front and she has only Jean who is but ten to help, and she's too poor to hire a reaper." When Madame Ribot heard the plan she smiled and nodded approval, reminding Henriette that she must wear gloves in order not to blister her hands. She herself, under her parasol, walked out to see them begin. Madame Pigou, with deep wrinkles around her kindly mouth and hands already stiffened by labour at forty, protested at first. "Such work is not for you," she said to Henriette. "Nothing takes it out of your back more than sickling, unless it's hoeing." "Oh, none of us expects to be as adept as you," replied Henriette, "or as Helen, who has a natural talent for such things." "Mademoiselle Helene," said Madame Pigou, with an affectionate smile of fellowship at Helen, "is one of us. Thank you all--thank you for the sake of Armand. I shall write him how you helped," she added. "Mind that you don't overdo!" Madame Ribot warned Henriette as she started back to the chateau.