“It is not so bad,” returned Victor cheerfully, though his eyes had a pathetic expression. “I have had the supreme joy of doing this much for France! I have given what I could of myself and have come out better than many of my comrades who have lost their sight or who must be entirely helpless the rest of their lives. I shall do very well, for it is my left arm, and I can have a most ingeniously contrived substitute.”
“I suppose he has told you of his Croix de Guerre.” Philip spoke again.
“You have the cross, Victor. Then you are a hero,” Lucie said.
“I deserved it no more than many another who did not receive it, yet I was very proud when they gave it to me at the hospital.”
“So am I proud, and so will your grandmother be. I suppose you will soon be going to Coin-du-Pres.”
“Yes, although just now it is rather a triste place. I think they would rather I did not come at once.”
“But why triste at this special time?”
“You have heard that my cousin Gaspard is no more? that he was killed on the Italian front?”
“Oh, no, Victor, I had not heard. Poor little Annette a widow! How very sad. What a blessed thing that she has her baby.”
“That is the great comfort.”