When she saw that it was Helen her frown deepened. It was a petulant frown which would have surprised the Count and the General; yet, perhaps it would not. They were wise old men, particularly the General. "More bad news?" exclaimed Madame Ribot. She had been used to regarding Helen as a harbinger of bad news since her birth. "It must be! You look as if you regarded the whole thing as a lark. Of course you would. Everything goes by contraries with you!" she continued. "Well?" Helen was elate, despite the scene with Henriette; elate with decision. "I came to ask a favour," she said. It was hardly a diplomatic beginning, considering her mother's state of mind. "A favour! At this time! That is like you, too." "Some one ought to look after the house while we are gone," Helen went on hurriedly. "Jacqueline--and the mayor and the curé. What do we have officials and priests for?" "I meant myself, too." "You? I should not call that a favour. You mean to be here alone when the Germans come?" "I don't think they will harm me," said Helen soberly. Madame Ribot gave her daughter a sweeping look, which was cuttingly significant. "No, not you!" she exclaimed; and noting the two red spots which appeared in Helen's cheeks she added: "You know how to look after yourself." Her mother's thought so quickly comprehended had cut deep, but only for an instant. Then it gave urgency to her desire. Her words came panting, as if she were striving for a goal. "Mother, it's my chance--the chance that comes only once! You see, I am what I am and this is the thing that I want to do. I'll see real war and the soldiers and the villagers in the midst of it--and the Germans, too! Oh, how I can draw! I'll not need to be clever, the subject is so great." The daughter's intensity communicated its directness to the mother. "It will not be necessary to say a word to Henriette or Cousin Phil, or anybody about the plan," she went on. "You see, I shall start to walk to the station. You will all be aboard, the train will go and I shall be left behind." But Helen's self-reliant precision was too valuable. Madame Ribot did not like to part with it in such a crisis. "And desert me when I need you! What kind of a mother do you think I am to permit such an arrangement as this?" "The Count will see you safely on the train to Paris and I can finish packing all your things and put them in the garret under lock and key, and you will return to find nothing disturbed." Madame Ribot's glance followed Helen's around the litter of clothing on the floor. "Really, one of us ought to stay and look after the things!" Helen urged. "Please!" "Very well. Do, my dear!" her mother agreed.