“First come to the house and see grandmother and grandfather,” said Annette. “They are so impatient to see you, my aunt, too, for you see this is the home of my grandmother’s sister.”
“And my old home,” put in Victor.
“Really, Victor? I never dreamed of all this,” she repeated.
Annette urged her toward the house where stood Monsieur and Madame Le Brun ready to welcome her. The old lady held out trembling hands and drew Lucie close, kissing her on each cheek. “Ah, my little girl,” she said, “we did not dream when we parted that such sad things could happen to our dear France.”
Mons. Le Brun wiped his eyes as he faltered out: “Your grandfather, my old and valued friend, he is no more. It is hard to believe that the good God has taken him, but I thank heaven that you are spared; and your father, he is safe, is he not?”
“So far as we know,” returned Lucie, “but my mother, we do not know where she is.”
“In good time, in good time,” said Mons. Le Brun soothingly. “And here is Madame Guerin, Victor’s grandmother, who is eager to see you.”
Lucie saw a little bright-eyed woman who greeted her affectionately, and who then went forward to speak to Paulette and Odette and bring them into the house.
“It is so wonderful to see you,” said Annette, who could scarcely take her eyes off her newly recovered friend. “When Victor wrote to ask about your coming I could scarcely contain myself with joy, for I felt as if you were lost utterly. Oh, we shall have happy days together in spite of hard times.”
“So it was Victor who thought of it.”