“I don’t blame her. We shall have to talk about that later on. I am working with the Committee for Devastated France, and shall be here until I am sent elsewhere. Now, dear child, if there is anything I can do I want you to be sure to let me know. I want you to feel that you have a friend, a countrywoman of your mother, whom you can turn to at any time. I will give you a card with the address which will always find me.” “My mother, I don’t suppose my father has heard anything of her,” said Lucie wistfully. “Has he any idea where she is?” “I am afraid not. We think she must be in one of the towns behind the German lines, so of course she cannot communicate with her people. There is no reason to believe she is not safe. We are all making every effort to get news of her but so far have not succeeded. You shall know the very instant we do hear anything. Let me see, I suppose Sunday would be the best day for seeing Paulette, and Odette, too. Of course you, dear child, are to look upon me as a friend, but I want to find out things that can be done for any refugee, and this little Odette, I want to learn more about her. I cannot stop now, but Sunday I shall see you again, and please call me Miss Nora, it sounds so much more friendly.” She stooped to give Lucie a kiss and went off casting a bright glance over her shoulder as she went out. Lucie lost no time in hunting up Odette. This most wonderful thing must be talked over at once, then, when that was discussed from every side, there was the long letter to her father to be written, so that the afternoon was all too short, and Paulette came near finding no dinner ready when she arrived. Lucie showed her the money triumphantly, saying: “And now you will not have to go to that old laundry any more.” But Paulette was entirely too canny to agree to this. “Why should I not?” she asked. “Am I then to throw away good money merely that I may sit with my hands folded? I shall work while I am able, for the winter at least, and in the spring we shall see what we shall see.” The next pleasant thing to happen was the Sunday visit of Miss Lowndes, who made herself so agreeable that even Paulette, chary of praise at most times, declared her a “young lady of parts.” Following this event came the letter from Victor. An amusing letter it was, of rollicking nonsense, and giving no hint of discomfort or discouragement. “About those shoes,” he wrote, “I am very glad they were left at your door. I think Pom Pom must have sent them, at least when I asked him about them and charged him with being the giver he did not deny it, but looked very conscious, and from his expression I should surmise that he knows more than he chooses to tell. Very pretty of him, wasn’t it, to send you a parting gift? By the way, he has captured all hearts, if he has not yet captured a Boche, but we all expect such great things of him that there is no telling what I shall have to report when I next see you.”