Of course Annette went into raptures over the new pet, and was so regretful at being deprived of him that Lucie consoled her by saying she should have a share in him, although he must live with the Du Boises rather than with Le Bruns. This arrangement quite satisfied Annette who had felt herself defrauded of what naturally should have come to her. So between them it certainly was not for lack of petting and feeding that Pom Pom could feel himself abandoned, and, as a matter of fact, in a few days he was entirely at home, ready to show off his tricks and to attach himself devotedly to Lucie. To be sure he would sometimes stand at the gate looking wistfully up and down the street, regarding Lucie with questioning eyes when she came to him. But no more did he or his mistress see Victor Guerin before bewildering and evil days fell upon the town. First came troops marching through, a thing of almost daily occurrence and a signal for the two little girls to run out with flowers, fruit, or cakes of chocolate to give to the soldiers, who would stick the flowers on the ends of their bayonets and go off nibbling chocolate between cheers or snatches of the Marseillaise. It had become a thing of every day to see Grandfather Du Bois and Grandfather Le Brun start off together to their factories, there to remain all day. It was becoming customary, too, to behold women doing men’s work and for the two little girls to apply themselves to duties they had never known before. Still they were happy. No one much believed in a protracted war. Those who shook their heads in doubt were laughed at and called croaking ravens. But one day came a message which compelled Madame Du Bois, pale and shaken, to leave Lucie in charge of her grandfather and Paulette, for the word was that Captain Du Bois was severely wounded and his wife decided that nothing must keep her from going to him. Lucie clung to her mother, choking back sobs and begging that she might go, too. “Take me, mother. Please take me,” she cried, “I will be brave and I can help, indeed I can.” “But, dear child, it is not possible,” Madame Du Bois tried to explain. “I do not know even if I may see him. I may not be allowed that privilege. I shall keep as near him as I can and shall return if he recovers,” she gave a quick sigh. “If it be that I must come back without him you must have the courage to face the worst, and bear in mind that it will be a hero for whom we mourn. Now, dear daughter, be as helpful here as you can. Give as little trouble as possible. When we keep busy there is less time for grieving. You must try to keep grandpère and Paulette in good heart.” These words encouraged Lucie to show a braver spirit. She no longer wept, but stood looking very grave and thoughtful. “You will write, mamma, very soon,” she said.