A Little Maid of Picardy by Amy Ella Blanchard

Victor's letter did not come the next day, though the person with the money did, giving Lucie a greater surprise than even the shoes. She had eaten her slight midday meal, consisting of a small bowl of soup left from the dinner of the day before, and a piece of not very good bread. She was washing the bowl and picturing to herself the sort of person likely to be her father's messenger, a meager little old man probably, all the young ones had gone to the war, it seemed; this one would wear spectacles, have thin gray hair and be a trifle deaf; he would hold his hand back of his ear and say "_Plait-il? _" when she answered his questions; and then came the knock at the door.

Lucie jumped. The exciting moment had arrived. She went to open, fully prepared to see the sort of person her fancy had created, and was so taken aback that she could hardly reply to the question: "Is this where Mlle. Lucie Du Bois lives? " for instead of a snuffy old man there stood a radiant, well-dressed young woman.