“I think perhaps,” said Lucie after a pause, “that one should be thankful for opportunities of making sacrifices, for it certainly makes us stronger and more unselfish. I used to hate sorrow and trouble but now I can see the use of it, even though I do not enjoy it.”
Annette smiled. “I don’t believe there is even a saint who would expect us to enjoy trouble,” she answered. “We can accept it as a part of discipline, as Sister Marie Ottillia used to say, but we needn’t try to delight in it.” The two girls went on with their sewing very quietly for a while. “I haven’t heard from Gaspard for a long time,” Annette at last spoke her thought. “I don’t know whether that means good or bad news.”
“Odette would say good news,” responded Lucie. “She is an odd little one, that Odette. If she had lived in the days of Joan of Arc I believe that she too might have heard voices.”
“How Paulette dotes on her, and no wonder. Have you ever thought—?”
“Oh, yes, I have thought, but I do not say anything. One must wait till the war is over.”
“Must one? I shall not if Gaspard decides otherwise.”
“Perhaps that is why you have had no letters. He may be on his way home.”
“I have thought of that.”
“And it is why you are sewing so contentedly and are putting in so many fine stitches?”
“It is one reason.”