Mrs. Graves and Miss Lowndes regarded it critically, then they exchanged glances. “You may bring in the cots, Marcus,” said Mrs. Graves.
In half an hour the shed was swept out, the cots set up, the bedding provided. Then, leaving the little family to do what they would, the two American ladies started out to find quarters for themselves.
After a little supper in the open Lucie went to explore, leaving Paulette to house her live stock. Pom Pom, in puzzled curiosity, went nosing all over the place. Lucie found the steps of the house and mounted them. The door was shivered to bits. She crept within the walls, avoiding bits of glass, slivers of wood, picking her way from spot to spot, trying to discover some token of what had been hers.
She was gone so long that Odette and Paulette went to look for her. They found her sitting on the topmost step, her head buried in her arm. She was sobbing her heart out, for the fragment of stuff which she clutched in her hand was a bit of the very dress her mother had worn the morning before she went away.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE OLD FOLKS AT HOME
THERE was more of the town undisturbed than at first was apparent. To be sure the houses so left had been looted and everything of value carried off, but it was astonishing how soon Mrs. Graves and Miss Lowndes were able to make themselves comfortable with what was left and with what they were able to send for, yet it was very far from luxury at the best, and in great contrast to what they were accustomed to in their own homes. Refugees came creeping slowly back to be reëstablished as soon as possible. Many had been living in the cellars under the factories during the time of bombardment and afterward when the Germans were in possession. They did not complain of much ill treatment, but were underfed and sickly, telling many tragic tales of petty tyrannies and of the deportation of all the able-bodied persons in the town, as well as of the destruction of all the fine machines in the factories.
At their end of the town Paulette, Odette and Lucie worked feverishly. They were sure of food and shelter; the rest did not matter. Their energies were bent upon restoring the home so far as possible. First the débris around the shed was cleared to give them free exit and entrance, then the free space was enlarged by degrees. It was not easy to get helpers, for all were occupied in restoring their own, yet Miss Lowndes more than once came to the rescue by sending young Marcus, who loaded up his sturdy machine and carried off a lot of stuff in order that garden space might be had. Nothing could be done with the house at present, but it was found possible to enlarge the shed, construct some rough furniture and install a small stove. As all three lived mostly out-of-doors, they considered themselves not badly housed. By degrees shell holes in the garden were filled up, the earth uncovered and a late garden planted. It was a red-letter day when Lucie discovered that the cherry tree was sending up shoots from its roots and that there were some pale, greeny white sprouts around the grape vines which had been uncovered.
But the biggest surprise of all occurred one morning when she went out and saw sitting on a section of the wall, serenely washing his face, who, but Mousse! For an instant Lucie stared, scarcely believing her eyes. “It couldn’t really be,” she whispered to herself. “It must be some other cat like him.” Then she called: “Mousse, Mousse!” The cat paused in his ablutions, regarding her with a wary eye. She went nearer. The cat ran along the wall a little way, then sat down again to continue his morning toilet. Lucie watched him for a few moments, but fearing to drive him away did not move nearer. Presently she went cautiously to the shed where Paulette was getting breakfast. “Paulette, come out here,” she said; “I am sure that Mousse has returned.”
Paulette smiled. “But that is impossible.”
“I don’t see why. Come and see for yourself.”