"Ole missus done got huh claws on yer ergain," Snowball said to Jeanne one morning. The negro girl had been enthusiastic in her greetings. "I wuz moughty sorry ter see yer kum back ter huh ergain." "I could not help it, Snowball. I know that she does not like me any better than she used to, but she is certainly kind to Dick and he needs that now. Even mother could not nurse him more tenderly." "She done got sum crotchet in huh haid," grumbled Snowball. "Done yer be tuk in, lill' missy. She up ter sumthing." The girl's words filled Jeanne with alarm. She had sometimes had the same thought, but when she saw Madame's devotion to her brother, she dismissed the idea from her mind. One day she sat by Dick's bedside alone. Madame had lain down for a little rest, although the boy was not yet out of danger. "Jeanne," said the weak voice of her brother presently. "Yes, Dick," and the girl hastened to his side. "What is it?" "I wonder and wonder," said the boy, in a far away voice, "why you told me what you did about Cherie. She is so good, so kind. The sweetest woman that I ever knew besides my mother! Why, why did you tell me such awful things of her, Jeanne? They are not true." Jeanne was aghast at the question. She stood, unable to answer, fearing to excite him by telling the truth and yet unwilling for him to be under the impression that her story was false. "Tell me," said Dick, weakly. "Why did you do it? I think of it always. It was not like you, Jeanne." "Don't ask me, Dick," pleaded Jeanne, falling on her knees beside him. "Wait until you are well and then we can talk it over." "You dally," cried Dick, his eyes bright with fever. "I see how it is! You fibbed to me, Jeanne. I know you did." "No, Dick, I did not," cried Jeanne, heartbroken at the thought that Dick could believe such a thing of her. "Listen, and I will tell you all about it. Snowball can tell you too, if you do not believe me. But you will be quiet, Dick, won't you? You will be very, very quiet." "You are not taking a very good way to get your brother well," exclaimed Madame, entering abruptly. "I will have to forbid you the room if you excite him like this. Can't you let your tales of me wait until he is strong enough to bear them?" "Are they true?" asked Dick, looking up at her with eager eyes. "They are not, are they?" "Yes," cried Jeanne, indignantly. "They are true, Dick! As true as I live! Why should I tell you a falsehood?" "Are they?" and Dick's eyes lingered on his aunt's questioningly. "Dear boy," said Madame, caressing him, "believe what the little one tells you. Is she not your sister? Poor Cherie would rather die than to say aught against her. Think what you like." "I knew it," and Dick breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew that you could not be so wicked and cruel."