“Mamma,” said Lucie, suddenly raising her head, “do you know that Jean and Odette have decided to be married at Easter. Paulette has said so and that settles it. She made up her mind long ago that those two should marry, and had Jean all in a state of mind to agree, though I must say that it wasn’t hard to persuade him, for he loves Odette and she loves him, which is very fortunate. Mamma, is that the way you are going to do?” “What way, dear daughter?” “Pick out some one and say to me: here’s your husband.” Madame Du Bois smiled. “Isn’t it rather early to begin to worry about that?” “Why, I don’t know. Look at Annette, engaged, married, widowed by the time she was nineteen. Of course, dearest mother, I love you too much to marry any one against your wishes, but I do want to choose my own husband just as you did.” “Have you any one in mind?” Madame Du Bois was still smiling. “I haven’t quite decided, though I think perhaps I shall marry an American, they are so nice and polite and kind. I love to see the way they make friends with the children. The only trouble is that he would want to take me home to his own country. Some of those who come to the canteen are very good looking. Uncle Phil has promised to bring some of those he knows over here to see us, though he hasn’t done it yet. I think maybe he wants to keep them from seeing Miss Lowndes. Don’t you think he likes Miss Lowndes very much?” “Very much, and she is a lovely girl. Well, dear daughter, so long as you are still casting about in your mind for a proper person to fall in love with I do not think we may have any uneasiness about the state of your heart.” “Of course I have an ideal,” Lucie continued the subject. “Sometimes I am very certain he is an American; again I tell myself I could only marry a Frenchman, a soldier of France, of course. I do so adore my France, and I might not like the United States. It is very hard to decide,” she sighed. After a silence she spoke again. “Annette was not really in love with Gaspard, though she loved him very much after they were married. I’d love to see her and the baby.” “Now that the war is over you may have the chance of going again to _Coin-du-Pres_. I should like to go there myself to thank them in person for their goodness to you, and to see our good neighbors again. I suppose for the present Victor will stay there, and in course of time he may marry Annette. It would be an excellent arrangement.” “Oh, mamma, do you think so?” “Certainly; an admirable arrangement.” “They are cousins.” “Not very nearly related, not too near.” Lucie dropped the work she was engaged upon and sat for a long time gazing into the fire. Her meditations were broken in upon by the sound of voices outside. She sprang to her feet. “Mother,” she breathed, “if it should be!” Madame Du Bois arose and stood shaking nervously. “I am still easily unstrung,” she murmured weakly. “Go and see who it is, Lucie.”