It was in the middle of the night that Lucie woke with a consciousness of something missing. The little furry ball always curled up at her feet was not there. She sat up in bed. “Pom Pom” she called softly, feeling along the edge of her cot and reaching over toward the foot. But no moist little tongue licked her hand in response. “He has gone to Paulette,” decided Lucie, for once in a great while he took a notion to cuddle down by the older woman. Having made up her mind that this was the way of it Lucie snuggled down again and it was not till morning that she discovered that Pom Pom was really gone. “He was here last night when Victor came,” said the girl distressedly. “You remember, Paulette, how he jumped on Victor and barked so sharply that to stop him Victor took him in his lap.” “He may have followed him downstairs and have been shut in--or out,” Paulette suggested. “Then he would be back by now scratching at the door. He has lingered once or twice down there but always he has come back in a hurry; he would do it now.” “Unless some one picked him up.” “Oh, Paulette, what a dreadful thought!” Lucie clasped her hands agitatedly. “I will go down at once to see if Mathilde knows anything about him.” This was no sooner said than done. Downstairs flew Lucie to find and question Mathilde. “But no, mademoiselle,” said Mathilde. “The little dog? Yes, yes, I know him well. I have not seen him, nor have I heard him. If he had come to the door I would have let him in, for I would have understood, I, that one does not like to lose a pet. There is sorrow enough that cannot be avoided in these days without adding anxiety over a loss of that kind.” “If you should see him, madame. If you will inquire of those in the neighborhood when you have a chance. Some one may have picked him up without knowing where he belongs.” “If I find him I will send him up to you flying. Rest assured of that.” This was the best that could be done and Lucie returned very miserable. “Is it not true that troubles never come singly?” she said. “Victor brings me sad news of my grandfather and now comes the loss of my darling Pom Pom.” “But Monsieur Victor also brought you good news of your father. Do not despair so soon, little one. The day is but begun; you may have him safe before I get home. Have you inquired of Odette?” “No, for it seemed no use.” “It will do no harm, for he may have scratched at our door and we may not have heard him. I sleep heavily these days, and then he may have gone to Odette as the next friend to rely upon. I go now, _chérie_. Do not despond.”