Yes, an awkward business, this, of a man and two girl cousins in a country house. Phil was sensible of it as he started to walk back from the station with Henriette, carrying her bag and his own. "We have Jacqueline," she said, as if divining what was in his mind. "A most dependable person, Jacqueline. Mother is quite safe and we shall see the war. Besides, we simply could not leave Helen alone." Coming to the top of a rise they stopped short. The steady thunder of the guns became suddenly audible and against the green background of distant woods little puffs of smoke that seemed born of nothing were breaking and spreading into a mist which was as innocent-looking as a fleecy cloud on a summer day. "One cannot realise what is going on there," remarked Phil, "though we shall if it comes to us." "Then we go into the cellar, don't we, and wait?" "I believe that is the rule," he said. "You've a good spirit." "That is easy when a woman has a man along whom she can rely upon," she replied cheerfully. "We have not been used to having a man at Mervaux." When they entered the house they found that Helen was still absent. Jacqueline did not know where she had gone. "I suppose the first thing is to settle down again," said Henriette. Phil took her bag upstairs. When he returned to the sitting-room Helen was just entering. "You!" she exclaimed. "I----" and she paused, no words coming to her. When she had thought that the house, the world, and the battle were hers came this intrusion by the one person whom she did not wish to see again! She ought to welcome him and she could not break silence. "We could not let you remain here alone when we heard that you were going to stay," he explained. "In fact, could you expect any decent cousin to do otherwise?" he added. Her eyes which had been stonily dull gave their first signal. It was smiling mischief, which developed into one of her laughs. "It was such a surprise that I must have looked as if I were seeing ghosts," she said. "It's a tribute to Jacqueline's omelets. You see, I relied on them to keep the Germans from looting the house. I meant to meet the invader with an omelet instead of an olive branch." She carried the part off well once she was started, leaving him puzzled and wishing that she would continue her mood--any mood that livened her features. "Oh, I didn't think I could stand at the door and defy the German hosts!" he explained. "Only, being a man, well--I----" "You were going to play the masculine part of protector. I do feel more safe. Any woman must, being a woman and subject to conventional sex inheritances"--this with a trifle of condescension, which was shattered by utter astonishment as Henriette appeared. "I did not mean to make you jump out of your shoes," said Henriette. "Mother was aboard the train all right?" Helen asked. "Yes; quite." "Did she want you to come back, too?"