Phil had been envying her the exercise and told her so.
"There's room for volunteers," she suggested. And she looked at him and then at Henriette. "I dare you both to come out there this afternoon!" she added.
"Done—if your sister will let me off! Will you?"
Henriette shot one of her quick glances at Helen.
"Perhaps you will volunteer, too," Helen parried.
"Why not? I'm game!" Henriette replied.
"Good! It's the best way of helping that I know. They are very hard pressed to get the grain cut before it is overripe. It will be straight sickling this afternoon on the Pigou patch. Poor Madame Pigou's son is at the front and she has only Jean who is but ten to help, and she's too poor to hire a reaper."
When Madame Ribot heard the plan she smiled and nodded approval, reminding Henriette that she must wear gloves in order not to blister her hands. She herself, under her parasol, walked out to see them begin.
Madame Pigou, with deep wrinkles around her kindly mouth and hands already stiffened by labour at forty, protested at first.
"Such work is not for you," she said to Henriette. "Nothing takes it out of your back more than sickling, unless it's hoeing."