“O, not men’s hats of course, beautiful hats upon which one could use ribbons and lace flowers.” “Where could you get all those things if you were in prison?” “I haven’t an idea. I suppose in the same manner that the man got leather for the shoes. Does it tell?” “Not yet. Maybe it will. We shall see.” So the tale went on till the midday meal was ready and a voice from the other side of the wall called: “Annette, Annette, _le dejeuner est servi_.” Then over the wall climbed Annette, leaving the fortunes of Lucie Manette, Evremonde and Sidney Carton to be followed another day. CHAPTER II THE FIRST BREAK “Mousse! Mousse! Where is Mousse?” Lucie began calling her pet cat as she ran from kitchen to dining-room to library. At the door of the last named room she stopped short to look around upon the little group gathered there. “Such serious faces, all of you,” she exclaimed. “What is it? Mamma, papa, grandfather, you look as if you had lost your last friends.” She perched upon her grandfather’s knee and began pulling his moustache so as to make the corners of his mouth turn up. “Smile, _cher grandpère_,” she said. He took her hands gently away and held them in his. “It is a time to be serious, my child,” he said. “One cannot smile when there is war to face. I who remember 1870 cannot smile now.” “War? Not for us, not France. What has she done?” Lucie looked around incredulously. “She has done nothing but be her true self,” said her grandfather shaking his head sadly. “But it is not near, this war. It will not touch us here in our home.” “Alas, it is very near. The Germans have invaded Belgium, and are marching on to Paris where, they boast, they will eat their Christmas dinner.” “Oh but,” Lucie began, looking toward her father, whose face wore a stern, set look. “Papa,” she cried springing up and throwing herself into his arms, “you are going! It is this that makes you all look so. You are going to the war, to be a soldier. O, papa!” He stroked her hair softly. “Yes, little one, I am going as all good Frenchmen will go. We are not ready, we of France, but we shall do our best. For this hour Germany has been preparing for forty years. She is the one country which desires and is ready for war. The rest of us have been taken unawares but--” He shrugged his shoulders. “And is it soon, at once, that you must go?” Lucie asked tremulously. “At once. There is no time to lose. You must be brave, little one, and cheer mamma. You are a daughter of France, remember, and her women do not quail before danger. You will remember that and be brave always, always, no matter what comes?” He took her face between his hands and kissed her on each cheek. Lucie winked back the tears and, though her voice quavered, she answered: “I will be brave, always, always, papa. I will remember.” “That is my dear daughter. Try to help all you can. There will be much to be done and you must do your part.”