The next day came a hurried note from Madame Du Bois. She was making but slow progress owing to the hard conditions everywhere, but she was with friends, and she hoped to be able to continue her journey. They must not be alarmed if they did not hear at once. She would write as soon as opportunity afforded, and with this they were obliged to be satisfied. A day or two of quiet when Lucie tried to get used to the loneliness and made a great effort to cheer up her grandfather. Between whiles there was Annette, to be sure, and there was also Pom Pom who was a ready pupil when the two girls attempted to teach him to bark when they cried: “_Vive la France!_” and to hold a small flag in his mouth waving it when they sang the Marseillaise. As for Mousse, he had reached the point of tolerating the newcomer, but not an inch further would he go. A proud disdain was the limit of what he felt he was called upon to express. “It is as much as we can expect of him,” declared Lucie: “Cats are always more reserved than dogs, mamma says.” Annette laughed. “How you are a funny one,” she said. “I could never analyze an animal in that way.” “O, do not flatter me by imagining it was my thought,” replied Lucie. “It was mamma who said it. I think, Annette, that we must try to make a true _poilu_ of Pom Pom. Perhaps in time we can persuade him to wear a sword and cap.” “But who will make them for him?” “Victor, perhaps, can make the sword and we can make the cap. That poor Victor will not have a very happy time in the trenches, I fear. Grandfather says the modern fighting is most bewildering.” “So says my grandfather. How those two talk and argue and fight their old battles over.” “Yes, when they are not talking about the factories. Over the top, Pom Pom,” cried Lucie as she vainly tried to make the little dog jump over a stick she held. “He has no ambition to be a _poilu_,” declared Annette. “But he must be, or we shall conscript him,” replied Lucie, at which speech of course Annette laughed. “Do you think it possible that the Germans will come to this place?” asked Lucie after a silence during which Pom Pom was allowed his freedom. “I do not know,” returned Annette, “but I am afraid sometimes.” “And I, too, when I go to bed with no papa, no mamma in the house and wake up in the night feeling so alone.” “I, too, have neither father nor mother.” “But you have a grandmother which I have not.” “Ah, but you have, over there in the United States.” “Much good that does when there is an ocean between us.” Their talk was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Lucie’s grandfather with a stern and set expression upon his face. At the same moment came an imperative call for Annette who scrambled over the wall hastily. “We go,” announced Mons. Du Bois, “at once.” “O, grandfather is it--is it papa?” quavered Lucie.