He came and sat on the side of the bed presently and held her hands, wondering if it was a cold, and recalling the fact that he had heard there were some cases of fever about. She was very languid for several days. He was down at the levee, supervising some of the new work; indeed, it seemed as if he was in great demand. She would curl herself up in the big chair at the corner of the fireplace, not on account of the cold, for the door stood open, as well as the heavy shutters, and the sunshine stole in the room, dancing about on the floor like groups of sprites. Mère Lunde would nod in her chair. Chloe was out in the garden, working. It was so quiet, the very silence appealed strangely to her, and her mind wandered off to the future. Some day Barbe would come here from the church leaning on Uncle Gaspard’s arm and looking up in his face with smiles, holding her pretty child by the hand. He would love it as he had loved her. He would carry it in his arms and hold it on his knee, listen to its chatter, just as he had done with her. And Barbe would have dozens of different graces and pretty ways to lure him continually. Where would she, Renée, be? Not pushed aside, but left to her own devices, dropped out, half forgotten. She wiped away some tears that overflowed her eyes. When André came back, if he wanted her she would marry him. It was comforting to think some one might want her. And if he never came back, if some pretty girl in New Orleans attracted him—ah, then, she would be lonely, indeed! Perhaps this was the way her mother had felt in the old château. And her grandfather had wanted _her_ put in a convent—perhaps it would have been better. If youth can make pleasures of its own, it can also make bitter sorrows, and in its waywardness longs to drain the cup to the last drop. Perhaps there may be some strength in the very bitterness, a tonic to work a cure. Gaspard Denys came in and found her there, picked her up, and, seating himself, pressed her to his broad breast and encircled her with his arms. What an exquisite shelter it was! “What can I do for you?” he asked. “You were never ill but once before, and that was the cold. But now you do not seem to improve. I wonder if you would like to have a change? It is dull, now that André is away, and I am so busy. Madame Renaud and Madame Gardepier are coming over to-morrow. And if you would like to spend a few days with them——” “Oh, no! I am content here,” in a quick tone. “Then some day we could go up the river and take our dinner. Some of the young people might like to join. Sophie Pion is so gay and good-humored.” “I like the quiet,” she returned languidly. “But it is not good for you, unless you were really ill.” “I shall be better soon. I walked out in the garden to-day.” “That is right. I can’t think what could have brought this about. Come, you must cheer up and be like your olden self. It makes my heart ache to have you so dreary.”