Lucie looked down at her right foot. “This one is the worst,” she said; “the other will last, but it is unfortunate that one must have two shoes.”
“That is one of those unpleasant truths we must face in this world,” returned Victor, laughing. “You should be hungry after your long walk.”
“Yes, but I have walked farther,” returned Lucie, a shadow crossing her face.
“But that is past,” said Victor cheerfully.
Lucie made no reply, but gave her attention to the soup which was now served them, and the meal went on. It was not quite so lively as that of the morning, for in the first place it was not so appetizing, and they were all tired in the second place. Then, too, to-morrow would be a working day, to which Paulette at least looked forward with no pleasure. It promised, however, a pleasanter prospect to Lucie who anticipated the agreeable task of fashioning a Nenette and Rintintin for Victor. She looked down at the little parcel which she had placed on the table beside her.
“You’d better give that to me now,” said Victor.
Lucie shook her head. “No, I promised Madame I would take charge of it till you were ready with your farewells.”
“She seems to have very little confidence in me,” remarked Victor.
“It might be for that reason or it might be for some other,” returned Lucie mysteriously.
“Are you inviting me to guess?”