Lucie looked down dubiously at her shoes now much the worse for wear. “If my shoes will stand it I should prefer the walk, but the soles have become very thin. You see the pair I had on when I left home gave out before we reached Paris, and these are now the only ones I have.” “We will try to avoid the damp places, and if we come to any path too wet I can carry you over.” “Monsieur!” exclaimed Paulette, quite scandalized. “It would be quite easy for me, I can assure you,” responded Victor imperturbably. “After the load a soldier must become accustomed to, the burden of carrying Mademoiselle Lucie would be nothing.” “_Coquin!_” cried Paulette, shaking her finger at him. “If any one must lift mademoiselle it will be I.” “Then we must try to avoid the wet places,” returned Victor. They turned into a street which led them to the Bois de Boulogne. Victor had provided himself with a little map which he consulted from time to time, but in spite of it they did wander a little from their route and actually did happen upon a moist by-path before which there was a discussion. Victor stooped down to examine it. “There is only one little place where it is very wet,” he said, “and I can carry you over that, Lucie.” “You will do nothing of the kind,” declared Paulette, bristling up. “If mademoiselle cannot walk without getting her feet wet I will carry her.” “And a pretty spectacle it would be,” protested Victor, “if any one were to come along, to behold a soldier permitting a woman to do such a thing. Are we men permitted to show no chivalry?” “Zut!” exclaimed Paulette, snapping her fingers. “That for your chivalry; it is all because you wish to have your own way.” “La! La!” cried Lucie, “are you two going to spoil the day by quarreling over me? No one shall carry me. I shall walk.” “And get your feet wet,” grumbled Paulette. “A happy thought!” cried Victor, whipping out his newspaper. “We will arrange this. Step upon the paper, Lucie.” He spread the doubled paper upon the spot, Lucie put out her little slim foot, stepped lightly and was over without further ado. Victor picked up the paper, looked at the footprint for a second, then with a chuckle, folded the paper, put it back in his pocket and followed on. Pom Pom, always in the lead, enjoyed his day quite as much as the rest, at least he had not the somber thoughts which haunted Lucie during every silence. To be sure these silences were not many, for the young people chatted constantly while Pom Pom explored, dashed on ahead, lay down to rest till the others came up, and was quite as tired a member of the party as any when at last they stopped at a modest restaurant on a side street. “Another home of a comrade, Victor?” asked Lucie smiling.