Lucie regarded them with a puzzled expression. “But why—are they, does one make any use of them?”
Madame smiled. “You do not know? I must then tell you that Nenette and Rintintin bring good luck. They protect a poilu from the Zeppelins, from the aircraft guns and all that. One must not ask for them. They must be bestowed voluntarily. They must not be bought. A friend must make them. They are little creatures of good luck.”
“How delightful! I wish I could make a pair for Victor.”
“Why not?”
“I could not without a pattern. With one to imitate I think I could, and if not my friend Odette, who is so clever, could help me.”
Madame considered the situation for a moment. She sincerely wished to aid Lucie in her project. A happy thought came to her. “When does monsieur return?”
“To-morrow night.”
“Then, mademoiselle, I will tell you what we will do: You will take charge of the package. We will tell monsieur that you keep it safe for him and you can then make your little figures, to-morrow, we will say, return them to the parcel here, and give it to monsieur before he leaves. I am sure you will not forget to put them in with the socks and the so short note I am about to write.”
“Oh, madame, how very kind!” cried Lucie. “I will take the utmost care, I assure you, and will not fail to do up the parcel neatly and give it to Victor, though”—She paused suddenly and a look of disappointment came over her face as she stood looking down at the little figures she held.
“What is it, chérie?” asked Madame solicitously.