"Oh, they're going, too, of course," Louis answered. "Their mission here is over now. The marquis is going to close the house, but he's granted, as a concession to me, that he'll keep it, and not sell it or even rent it to any one else. There I can come back to it once in a while, and live in the old way for a time. He's an awfully good sort, I will say, and is only doing this because he sees I'm all broken up over things. Well, I must go back to help him send off despatches and pack. It's a hateful job. Come over and see Aunt Yvonne. She's upset over this, and instead of feeling joyful, as I should suppose she would, is quite miserable over something. I can't understand what it is, though." Louis went off directly across the Green. It was heartbreaking to watch him. But the Imp says that one thing is certain. They evidently haven't told Louis about those papers that can't be found. CHAPTER XVII THE IMP MAKES A LAST DISCOVERY A burning August sun shone down pitilessly on the parched brown grass and dusty roads about Paradise Green. The great elms stood absolutely motionless in the stifling air. Into this merciless atmosphere, quite early in the morning of August 12, emerged three girls, bound for the home of Louis Durant. "Isn't it awful!" moaned Carol, perspiration streaming down her face, as they plodded on in the blazing sun. "This terrific heat has lasted a week, and there isn't a sign of let-up yet!" "And to think that poor Miss Yvonne has to tear up the house and pack at such a time as this!" echoed Sue. "She isn't a bit well, either. I'm awfully glad she's letting us help her. I never supposed she would, but she must be kind of desperate, with their servant gone. She's fine to have let her go, though, for the servant said her son had to join the army, and she might never see him again, if she didn't leave for France at once." "Yes, it is great of Miss Yvonne to struggle through this alone," put in the Imp, "but I still don't see why Monsieur didn't want her to get help from the village, except that he didn't wish strangers to pry around and ask questions at this time, I suppose." They reached the gate and turned into the yard. Monsieur was sitting under a tree, reading a paper and striving to imagine that he was as cool as possible in its shade. Louis was in the house, helping Miss Yvonne. "Come in, girls!" he called through an open window. "We are precious glad to see you. Can you help us pack these books?" The tone strove to be his usual, careless, care-free one, but it was patently anything but that. Not one of the girls but realized the effort he was making.