He made a second call upon Miss Lowndes the next morning. “I am Lieutenant Randolph,” he announced himself, “Lucie Du Bois’s uncle. She tells me you are a friend of hers, and I am wondering what we can do to better things for her. She shouldn’t be living in that little hovel all mixed up with the others. They may be used to it, but she isn’t.” “She prefers it, you see. It has been her one desire to get back here to her old home, no matter in what condition it might be.” “I understand that, and of course in mild weather it isn’t so hard, but in bad weather it must be awful. I have been trying to get in touch with my brother-in-law, Lucie’s father, but so far have not been able to do so.” Miss Lowndes was silent for a moment, during which time she made repeated jabs with the point of her pencil into the pad before her. “Then you do not know,” she said presently, “that Lucie’s father has been taken prisoner.” Philip made a muttered exclamation. “When did you hear?” he asked. “Only to-day. I have not told Lucie, for I think it is enough for her to be concerned about her mother. Oh, do please hurry up and end this war.” Philip smiled. “I think you may count on us to do our little best.” “I am sure of that. You don’t know what faith we all are putting in you.” “That’s what helps, too. But about Lucie. Isn’t there some way to get one of those little readymade houses?” “We do get them, yes.” “They are at least better than what she is living in, and could be used for some one else if the old house is ever rebuilt. It could be set up there alongside the shed, couldn’t it?” “Surely.” “Is it a feasible plan?” “It looks so to me. I will inquire into it.” “Thanks.” He held out his hand. “We may not be quartered here very long. Miss Lowndes. I may never return; that’s part of the game, you know, but before I leave I should like to feel satisfied that our little Lucie is housed better than a goat or a rabbit.” “All right,” returned Miss Lowndes smiling, “we will do our best, I promise you. It is quite within our rights, of course.” “If it is a question of funds,” Philip began. “Of course that is a consideration. We have none to spare, of course.” “So I surmised. I’ll foot the bill if you will put the thing over. Is it a go?” “So far as I am concerned it certainly is. Come in to-morrow morning and I shall be able to tell you more about it, and I think we’d better not say anything to Lucie about her father until she asks questions.” “I agree with you. I’ll come in to-morrow.” Miss Lowndes watched him striding down the street, an erect soldierly fellow. “What a nice man he is! what an awfully nice man,” she said half aloud. “I hope he will be billeted here for a long time, for Lucie’s sake,” she added, though back of that wish was one for herself. She saw him the next morning and the next and the next. In fact there was not a day during his stay that the two did not meet, if only for a moment. CHAPTER XIX JOY