She entered the little shed and sat down to take a baby bunny in her lap, stroking the small creature’s long, soft ears. “And there is Pom Pom,” she soliloquized, “even he will not miss me so much once he is again in Victor’s hands. Odette thinks of no one but Jean, and Annette has her baby. I have my beloved parents, ungrateful that I am, but it is hard to feel one’s self slipping into second place, third place, no place in the affections of one’s friends.” She sat there for some time nursing the little baby rabbit. She saw her father and Victor go out the gate, Pom Pom at their heels. The two men were talking earnestly as they moved off down the street. After a time Lucie put the rabbit back with his brothers and sisters, then she went into the house.
Her mother looked up brightly as she came in. “Where have you been, dear daughter?”
Lucie smiled somewhat wofully. “Out in the shed with the rabbits.”
“You couldn’t have found them very lively companions.”
“No, but they were better than none. I meant to go down to see Miss Lowndes, but I saw papa and Victor walking off in that direction and thought I’d better wait till the coast was clear.”
“For the possible meeting of that ideal American soldier you were talking of the other day?”
“Maybe. Miss Lowndes is going very soon. Every one is deserting me.”
“Why, my dear.” Her mother looked up, surprising tears in her daughter’s eyes. “Why are you so melancholy, dear little girl?”
“Miss Lowndes is going, and Uncle Philip cannot stay very long on this side the world.”
“But from the looks of things we shall see them both again, and together, in all probability.”