WELL MET It was with many misgivings that Lucie started out upon her walk to the village. Pom Pom, however, had nothing upon his mind after having settled the food question for the moment. All that was required of him was to keep his mistress in sight, but Lucie had far more anxious thoughts as she went on. She was now sure that something had happened to Paulette whose devotion to the family would permit nothing short of utter disability from keeping her overnight. As for her grandfather, Lucie felt that here too was another cause for worry. What had become of him? Was she to be left utterly alone? she who had always lived such a peaceful, protected life? With Paulette and her grandfather vanished mysteriously, how could she reach Paris? and even supposing she were able to do this, what would she do when she got there? She must make every effort to find her mother and father. How would she best set about doing this? She felt herself such a tiny speck in such a big world. Finally her lips took to forming only the words: “Brave, I must be brave,” as she trudged on. The distance was greater than she had believed, and with no more nourishment than part of a loaf of bread she did not feel herself any too well fortified for so long a walk. She had reached the outskirts of the town without seeing any one. Except for the distant roar of guns, the occasional crash of a collapsing wall, the far-off whir of an airplane, there were no disturbing sounds. Presently a figure at last appeared coming toward her, a man in the red and blue uniform of a _poilu_. Pom Pom, who had been following laggingly with lolling tongue, suddenly pricked up his ears and dashed forward barking joyously. The soldier stopped to pat the little dog who frantically jumped upon him, licking his hands and whimpering with delight. “But where did you come from, my Pom Pom? Are you then lost?” Lucie heard the man say as she came nearer. She stood still, not recognizing the figure in military dress, then she herself ran forward almost as joyously as Pom Pom had done. “Victor! Victor!” she cried. “What good fortune is this. What a happiness to meet you!” “A happiness, is it?” He laughed and showed his strong white teeth. “And what are you doing here, you and Pom Pom, so far from home? This is a strange meeting indeed. Where are the rest, your mother, grandfather and all?” “Ah, that is what I do not know. I am in great distress, Victor.” “Is it so? Then tell me what is wrong.” His face went grave as he took her bundle from her and looked into the weary little face whose eyes were so mournful with dark shadows under them. “Poor little one, you do look as if you had traveled far,” he said pityingly. “Come, sit down here by the roadside and tell me all about it.” So Lucie poured forth her sad little tale, concluding with: “And but for Pom Pom I might have starved.”