Madame arose without another word. She stood for a moment looking down at Lucie and the suffering dog, now lying very quietly. Then she turned to Jean. “When do you return?” she asked. “To-morrow, madame.” “I will go with you,” she said, and left the room. When she reached the house Mons. Le Brun came out to meet her. “This is sad news, Clothilde,” he said. “A message has just come.” “I have had the message from another source,” she said. “I go to him to-morrow.” For hours Lucie sat there. Jean and his mother talked in low voices outside. Annette came and begged to take Lucie’s place, but she only shook her head. “He would rather stay with me,” she said. “He knows me best.” Odette stole in and out, stopping to ask if she could bring water, milk, food. She crouched close to Lucie and they talked of the day they first met. “It was then I was trying to make a _poilu_ of Pom Pom, do you remember?” Lucie asked. “He became a true _poilu_, the brave little man.” She bent her head and softly kissed him above the eyes. “He was so funny when he tried to sing,” Odette remarked reminiscently. “He has done many things for a little dog. One would not think he could be so human. Put him in my lap, Lucie. You must be so tired. Perhaps he will not mind.” “But he seems fairly comfortable now. I am afraid if I stir he will suffer again. I will keep him so for a while yet.” After a while Paulette came in. “This will not do, my child,” she began; “you will wear yourself out. The poor little one will be quite as comfortable on a bed I shall make for him.” “No, no, I would rather stay. What is this compared to his sufferings, compared to what our brave men suffer? I can stand it. When I can no longer I will give him up.” The story had gone around of the dog’s devotion to his master and those working on the place flocked to see him, but Paulette would not have one of them inside. “He would be better off if they put him out of his misery,” muttered old Jules. “What’s that you are saying?” questioned Paulette. “What do you know about it? The creature may get well.” Jules shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Then Marie came whispering, then young Michel, very much interested, as what boy would not be? It was Michel who offered to go for the doctor. “He will come, even if he is not a beast doctor,” he declared. “Oh yes, he will come when I tell him.” Paulette looked at Jean. Should she allow this? “Let him come,” advised Jean. “He may not be able to do much good, but he can perhaps give something that will cause sleep.” So off Michel went to the village and came back with the old doctor who very tenderly examined Pom Pom, and then shook his head. “He cannot recover,” was his opinion. He looked sharply at Lucie. “My child,” he inquired, “how long have you been sitting there?” “I don’t know,” returned Lucie, “but I do not want to move while Pom Pom needs me.”