"Tell me," said the Comte, after a few minutes' silence, during which Margot had fed him with some of the doctor's restorative--"tell me what thou didst do at the _établissement_ to-day. Didst thou buy a chapeau?--didst thou watch the _little wonder_ as she sold chapeaux and robes for Madame Marcelle?" "I was not there at all to-day, grandpère." "Ah, _ma petite_, but wast thou there yesterday?" "_Mais oui_," said Margot. "And didst thou perchance see the _little wonder_?" "I saw her; she is not a wonder." "Ah, _ma petite_, be thou not of the jealous ones!" said the old man. "That would not be worthy of thee. Thou hast thy gifts; she has hers. Her chapeaux, they are perfect. Her taste, it is what I never saw before. Tell me about her, _chérie_." "I will," said Margot, "if thou, _mon_ grandpère, will let me put both of my hands round one of thine, and if thou wilt promise not to--not to turn me away afterwards." "Turn thee away, best beloved, it couldn't be." "Ah, but it might be," said little Margot. "There is a burden on thy mind; there is a--I call it not a _fear_, but it approaches in the direction of a fear. _La petite_ who sells _les_ chapeaux, _les_ robes and all the other articles of refinement in the _établissement_, is _thine own Margot_. Dost thou hear me? I will not keep it back from thee any longer. _La pauvre belle_ grand'mère thought that it was best for thee not to know, but there are cruel people in the world who tried to tell thee, but failed, so now _I_ tell thee. The ladies who came here yesterday were of the cruel sort; the girl in the grass-green hat was of the cruel sort; but thy Margot--thy Margot--_mon_ grandpère, art thou angry?" "With thee? _Mais non--non!_" His face was whiter than ever; he could scarcely swallow. After a little he seemed to gather strength. "Call thy _belle_ grand'mère back to me, Margot," he said. Margot fetched the poor woman. She came in, trembling from head to foot. "I have told him; he had to know," whispered Margot. The old man's eyes were bright now with some of the brightness of yore; his voice was firmer, too. "Listen, Ninon," he said, "behold! Keep thy hand in mine, Margot, beloved. Ninon, I thought thou wert truthful, and I thought this child truthful, but she, _la petite_, has told me all the truth at last. I cannot appear before the Great Almighty with the sin of pride on my soul. Behold, now, we are all alike in Heaven; only make me one promise, Ninon. Never again shall this little one enter the _établissement_ of Madame Marcelle, never except to buy." "She shall not, _mon_ Alphonse," said Ninon, falling at his side and burying her face in the counterpane and beginning to weep. "Thy tears distress me," said the old man. "Behold _la petite_, she does not weep." "I come of those who regard tears as not wise," said Margot; "but, behold! I promise thee, grandpère, I promise with all--all my heart. I will never again sell in the _établissement_ Marcelle."