A little maid of Picardy

by Amy Ella Blanchard

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.”

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.