"I will on one condition," replied Margot. "Neither of my grandfathers must ever know. I told Uncle Fergus what I thought right and fair. He did not agree and I am sorry, for I love him. But now for three months I will help thee, _ma belle_ grand'mère." "Ah, but thou art of the blessed," said the Comtesse. "Do not the angels sing of thee? Have they not this very night sung a new song to their harps on account of thee, _ma petite_?" "I care not in the least what the angels do," said Margot, "but I want to help thee and grandpère. I will do it, too. To-morrow I will begin. Two hours daily, except Sunday, when I kneel in my room and pray to the good God; the rest of the time I learn of the French--yes--of the music--yes--of the dancing--yes! Now I will repose as thou dost suggest, _ma belle_ grand'mère, for I am weary, not having slept, I may say, anything at all last night." "Ah, thou blessed one, I will take thee to thy room," said Madame. Margot undressed quickly and got into bed, a smile on her face. She had a strange feeling that she was doing right, that this was an occasion when it was her bounden duty to resist dear Uncle Fergus and help la Comtesse. She little guessed, however, that there was a certain girl, well known in the school of la Princesse de Fleury, namely, Louise Grognan, the daughter of Grognan the owner of the big restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiens--she little knew that this young person was watching her and intended for her own purposes to spoil what she called the fun of the little shopkeeper. Accordingly the next day, when Margot was busy over her duties as saleswoman, Louise Grognan entered the shop. She came straight up to Margot and asked her in a harsh, unpleasant sort of voice for a chapeau, and she was to be _vite_. Margot smiled in her gentle, pleasant way, said she was busy for the time being, but if Mademoiselle Grognan would wait for a few minutes she would take her to the _apartement_ where the chapeaux were sold. Louise frowned a little, felt decidedly cross, but after a time decided to wait. She was catching the little shopkeeper in the act. Nothing could be more agreeable. Perhaps never before had little Margot St. Juste looked more beautiful than she did on this occasion. There was the spirit of self-denial in her charming little face. She was doing what she was doing for others and not for herself. Her appearance, too, was remarkably striking. Madame had dressed the little girl on this occasion in a soft crimson robe, much embroidered, with stockings and dainty shoes to match. The beautiful child attracted the attention of everyone. "Behold la Comtesse! Behold la Comtesse!" echoed from end to end of the great _établissement_. "Now, thou, _chérie_, shalt be dressed according to thy needs," said a happy mother to a blushing daughter.