In consequence, so far as the shoes were concerned, Lucie was no wiser than before, and concluded that whatever Victor might know he did not mean to tell; therefore, Paulette advised her to accept the situation and wear the shoes, which she did. So the weeks wore on. Autumn slipped into winter. Christmas came and went, rather a sorrowful day for all in spite of an effort on the part of every one to make it bright and cheerful. Miss Lowndes came with little gifts for Paulette and Lucie, and a basketful of food for the old women next door, but no one felt very gay; memories were too poignant. But the New Year brought two bright occurrences. Jean had his first permission, granted every four months to the men in the trenches, but somehow a little delayed in his case. Paulette took a week’s holiday and undertook to show her son the city, with Lucie and Odette as two of the party. Big, honest Jean was rather shy before Lucie, whom he knew only as the young lady of his former employer’s family, but he was more at home with Odette, who presented him with Nenette and Rintintin to his delight and Paulette’s satisfaction. It was while he was still on leave and was making his daily visit to his mother that news came from Captain Du Bois, news that made Lucie happier than any gift, for he wrote that he had had a message from her mother, a mysteriously sent message, believed to have been smuggled in by some one through the German lines. At all events there was no inkling of how it was sent. The words: “I am safe and well,” were all the message contained but they were enough to cheer Lucie and her father. “Nothing, no New Year’s gift, could have made me so happy,” Lucie told Miss Lowndes who had come in that very day. “Perhaps next year the war will be over and we shall be together again in our home.” “I would not expect too much, dear,” said Miss Lowndes, “though now I think you may hope to see your mother again.” And this hope buoyed Lucie up in many of the tragic days to come. After Jean’s departure Paulette went back to her work, but because of her son’s insistence she shortened her hours and reached home while it was still daylight. “I shall not have a happy moment if I know you are out after dark,” he said. “With those Zeppelins about I shall not be satisfied to have you exposed at night.” “But they may come in daylight, and one is not safe in one’s own home,” protested Paulette. “Just the same I shall not be satisfied,” returned Jean doggedly, and Paulette yielded.