"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.
They entered the room, donned dust-caps and aprons that they had brought with them, and entered on the work with assumed zest. They were in Miss Yvonne's room on the ground floor, and the dismantling process had begun to be complete. The bed was taken down, the bookshelves emptied and their contents piled on the floor, and the furniture was shrouded in sacking. Little remained to be packed, except the contents of a big closet built into one wall. Miss Yvonne was elsewhere, so the young folks had the room to themselves.
"Isn't the weather awful!" groaned Carol, for the second time in ten minutes.
"The news in the paper is worse!" commented Louis.
"Oh, what is it?" chorused the girls. "None of us have had time to read the paper to-day."
"The Germans are demolishing Belgium. They've entered France at several points and are bound straight for Calais and Paris. It seems as if nothing could stop them. They're walking away with everything. They're hideously prepared for this, and not one of the other nations is. It makes my blood boil! Oh, if I could only do something, instead of just going over to France and watching the show! But I suppose Monsieur wouldn't hear of it."
"Louis, you mustn't get into this fight. You're too young!" exclaimed Sue.
"Yes, that's what he says," muttered Louis, viciously scrubbing a book with a dust-cloth. "But I'm seventeen; and I don't agree with him. I've lost all interest in life, anyhow. Why shouldn't I go in and smash a few of the enemy's heads?"