“I think we all feel that way, all except poor grandmother. She has been so accustomed to being considered and catered to that it is harder for her than most.” “I think perhaps,” said Lucie after a pause, “that one should be thankful for opportunities of making sacrifices, for it certainly makes us stronger and more unselfish. I used to hate sorrow and trouble but now I can see the use of it, even though I do not enjoy it.” Annette smiled. “I don’t believe there is even a saint who would expect us to enjoy trouble,” she answered. “We can accept it as a part of discipline, as Sister Marie Ottillia used to say, but we needn’t try to delight in it.” The two girls went on with their sewing very quietly for a while. “I haven’t heard from Gaspard for a long time,” Annette at last spoke her thought. “I don’t know whether that means good or bad news.” “Odette would say good news,” responded Lucie. “She is an odd little one, that Odette. If she had lived in the days of Joan of Arc I believe that she too might have heard voices.” “How Paulette dotes on her, and no wonder. Have you ever thought--?” “Oh, yes, I have thought, but I do not say anything. One must wait till the war is over.” “Must one? I shall not if Gaspard decides otherwise.” “Perhaps that is why you have had no letters. He may be on his way home.” “I have thought of that.” “And it is why you are sewing so contentedly and are putting in so many fine stitches?” “It is one reason.” Lucie drew a little sigh. “It will be strange to think of you married, Annette. Here we are seeing each other daily just as we did before the war, and the time will come when you will be in one place and I in another.” “Perhaps not. We might both continue to be here.” “Oh, no, for as soon as we dare we must go back to have the home all ready for my mother.” Annette was silent. She felt very uncertain that Lucie’s hopes were to be fulfilled. Then she briskly changed the subject. “Would you embroider this all the way around, or would you only put a little in front?” Lucie gave the matter due consideration, but had not decided when there came a call from below stairs. “Annette, Annette. Come at once.” Down went Annette’s work as she hastily ran to answer the call. Although Lucie was full of curiosity she decided that she would not follow. If she had been wanted the call would have included herself. So she sat quite still, presently looking around to see if Pom Pom were near. He could be relied upon not to be very far off, and this time was discovered under Lucie’s chair. Annette was gone a long time, so that Lucie began to wonder what was keeping her and was about to go in search of her when her friend appeared, looking very flushed and excited. “It is so strange, so very strange,” she began, “just as we were talking of it.” “Not trouble!” exclaimed Lucie, “not more trouble.” “No, I hope not.” A little smile flitted across Annette’s face. “It is about Gaspard. He is coming, and--”