“Yes, yes, as soon as I can. As soon as it is possible I will send some sort of message. It may be that I shall have difficulty in finding a proper place to stay, but at the hospital I shall try to make myself so useful that they will wish me to stay.” So away she went, leaving Lucie waving farewells and trying to smile in spite of tearful eyes. She remembered that she must not be a coward and that she must keep busy so as to have no time for grieving. “Paulette, Paulette,” she called as she reëntered the house. The old servant had disappeared in order to hide her own emotions. “Paulette, give me something to do, something very hard that will make it necessary for me to keep my whole mind on it. I must have something to do. It is so hard this parting.” She was biting her lip and giving gasps between words. “To be sure it is hard,” returned Paulette turning away her head. “Do I not know, I, a mother?” “It is not only that mamma goes, that alone would be a hard thing to bear. She has never left me before, but papa, wounded, who knows how badly, and if ever--if ever--” She broke down and was gathered up into Paulette’s arms to sob out her sorrow on the good woman’s shoulder. She had kept back the tears as long as she could; now they must overflow. “There, there, my lamb,” Paulette patted her soothingly. “The good God knows what is best. He does not willingly afflict. Yes, yes, weep all you wish; it is better so. One must weep at times or go mad. To-morrow, perhaps we shall have good news. We can be hopeful until we know. It is best to hope.” In a few minutes Lucie dried her eyes and tried to smile. “We must think of grandfather, Paulette,” she said. “It is he one must first consider. He will be coming home from the factory very soon and there will be none but ourselves to greet him. He always went down that he might walk home with papa, you remember, then it was mamma who was always on hand to welcome him with a smile. I must train my mouth to smile no matter how I feel; it was what mamma did. Somehow I must always manage to have a smile for grandfather.” “The poor old one,” sighed Paulette. “It is hard for him, his only son. I know; I know. Yes, chérie, you must meet him with a courage. Compose yourself. Go bathe the eyes, the flushed cheeks. Then we will make him one of those omelettes he best likes, and you may go to gather the eggs for it.” “That is not a very difficult task but it is an interesting one,” answered Lucie, trying to be cheerful. “I will take Pom Pom to help. He adores to hunt for eggs. Poor Pom Pom, he has been so troubled to see me in distress, and has been doing his best to ask me what is the matter.” “He is an animal most intelligent,” acknowledged Paulette. “Though for me I prefer Mousse.” “Ah, that is because Mousse prefers you,” declared Lucie. “He is the older friend,” Paulette remarked as Lucie went off to her room.