“So much the better,” she returned; “the meal will probably be better cooked and better served,” as indeed it was. After days of frugality it was indeed a treat to partake of a tasty soup, omelette of the freshest of eggs, chicken of the tenderest, grapes and pears just gathered. “I regret that the coffee is not up to the mark,” complained Pierre, who himself waited on them, “but what can you expect? _C’est la guerre._” Madame came from the kitchen rather flushed and embarrassed to ask timidly if Victor could find place in his luggage for a small package which she wished to send to her son. “It is but one pair of socks and another little thing,” she explained. “I can find room for a dozen pairs of socks,” he responded heartily, “and would be glad to carry that many.” “But no, monsieur, that would not be possible,” returned Madame. “One pair is all I have ready,” at which innocent reply Victor laughed heartily, rather to the discomfiture of the good little woman, who did not see the humor of it, and to turn the subject said to Lucie: “Perhaps mademoiselle would like to see a small thing I am sending. If monsieur can wait till I have put up the parcel.” Victor assured her that time was no object just then. He would walk in the garden, smoke a cigarette, exchange views with Monsieur Pierre who perhaps would like to ask intimate questions about his son. Madame beckoned to Lucie who went off with her to an inner room. From a drawer Madame drew forth the socks and a little box which she opened and handed to Lucie to examine. “And what are these?” asked Lucie as she held up two queer little figures, two or three inches long. Madame smiled. “Those,” she said, “are Nenette and Rintintin. I am sending them to my son.” Lucie regarded them with a puzzled expression. “But why--are they, does one make any use of them?” Madame smiled. “You do not know? I must then tell you that Nenette and Rintintin bring good luck. They protect a _poilu_ from the Zeppelins, from the aircraft guns and all that. One must not ask for them. They must be bestowed voluntarily. They must not be bought. A friend must make them. They are little creatures of good luck.” “How delightful! I wish I could make a pair for Victor.” “Why not?” “I could not without a pattern. With one to imitate I think I could, and if not my friend Odette, who is so clever, could help me.” Madame considered the situation for a moment. She sincerely wished to aid Lucie in her project. A happy thought came to her. “When does monsieur return?” “To-morrow night.” “Then, mademoiselle, I will tell you what we will do: You will take charge of the package. We will tell monsieur that you keep it safe for him and you can then make your little figures, to-morrow, we will say, return them to the parcel here, and give it to monsieur before he leaves. I am sure you will not forget to put them in with the socks and the so short note I am about to write.”