“Did he not tell you? It is like him to put a commendable thing upon some one else. Come here, Victor, and tell Lucie about how you managed this thing.”
So Victor came over from where he was being adored by his grandmother and told his tale. “You see,” he began, “when your father knew that Paris was getting to be unsafe and that Paulette was anxious to get you away, he asked me if I could think of any place where you might be protected and happy and where Paulette could also be. Immediately I thought of this, my own home. I knew my grandmother needed help in the fields and I thought it would be brighter for all if you could join Annette. Moreover, I knew my grandmother would be only too glad to have you come, and that it would be a consolation to your father to know you were among friends. I told him my plan. He urged me to write at once and so there you are; the thing was accomplished.”
“And well accomplished,” said Annette with satisfaction.
“And where did you see my father?” asked Lucie.
Victor looked surprised. “It is easy to see him. Didn’t you know that he and I are in the same brigade?”
“I didn’t know, but I am glad it is so. Where is Odette? I want Annette to meet her. She is such a dear girl, Annette, and we are great friends.”
“The little peasant girl, do you mean?” asked Annette rather superciliously.
“Joan of Arc was a peasant girl,” returned Lucie reproachfully.
“So she was,” agreed Annette.