“And some of our house,” put in Lucie eagerly. “One corner is quite destroyed, but I can recognize what is left.”
They left the car and began to examine the premises. The gardens of the two houses were choked with débris from the fallen buildings. The old cherry tree was nothing but a stump. They made their way over the piles of stone, brick and plaster. The house was an empty shell. Only the little shed was quite intact. “We can begin to live here,” remarked Paulette firmly.
Mrs. Graves looked dubiously at Miss Lowndes. “The other end of the town seems to be in better condition,” she remarked. “Perhaps we’d better go there.”
“You can go there, and I should advise you to,” said Paulette, “but for me I stay here.”
“And I too,” declared Odette.
Lucie caught Miss Lowndes’ hand. “Please don’t say I must leave them,” she cried.
“But, my dear, I am afraid you cannot be comfortable. Why not come with us? There seem to be several quite good houses left and I am sure we can find a better place to stay to-night. To-morrow we can see what we can do here.”
“But you don’t understand,” said Lucie agitatedly. “It is my home, my home. For three years, nearly, I have longed for it.”
“My dear, my dear, I do understand. Suppose we examine the shed and see what it looks like.”
They struggled over the stones to reach it to find it the one thing unchanged. Evidently it had not been used. The winds of winter had swept through it, the rains of spring had fallen upon it, but had not harmed it. Inside it was dry, warm, and if not quite clean, at least it was not so foul a place as that cow shed Lucie remembered.