She had slipped her arm around Helen's waist with a rallying burst of affection, which concluded with a kiss and a nestling of her cheek against Helen's as she looked at Phil. The two faces were close together, Henriette smiling devotedly and Helen quite still in contrast; the one at her best and the other at her worst. Then Helen looked around at her sister studiously and back at Phil.
"I'm glad you both came," she said. "I—is there another train to Paris?" she asked abruptly.
"No, that was the last," Phil answered.
"So we are here together, come what will," she said slowly, with an odd emphasis. "I just came back for my drawing things. The French are retreating along the road and the German shells are coming nearer. I can't afford to waste a minute."
She took up her drawing materials from the table. As she turned to leave the room, something in her attitude made Phil arrest her.
"You are not going into danger?"
"No, not in the least; to sketch is all," she replied.
"I think that my part is to keep watch of you," he said. "May I go with you?"
"And I want to see, too!" Henriette put in.
"Come on, then. If you are going to look after us both we must not be separated," said Helen.