“Oh, truly? truly?” Renée flung her arms about the woman’s neck. “Say again you do not believe it.” Every pulse was throbbing, and her breath came in tangled gasps. The woman’s tranquillity rasped her. “Nay, he would have planned different. And Ma’m’selle Barbe has young admirers. Ah, you should have seen her at Christmas and Epiphany! She was chosen Queen, she had one of the lucky beans. She would hardly want so grave a man. All young things love pleasure, and it is right; care comes fast enough.” And now Renée remembered that a young man had spent evenings with his violin, and they two had sat out on the gallery. But she could not divest her mind of the curious sort of suspicion that Barbe cared very much for Uncle Gaspard. “No, no,” went on Mère Lunde. “People gossip. They often mate two who have no such intention. Dry thy eyes, petite, and laugh again. There has a robin built in the beech near thy window, and now I think there are young ones in the nest. I heard them cry for food. And the father bird goes singing about as if he wanted to tell the news. It is pleasanter than thine.” Renée smiled then. Yes, if the young man loved, ma’m’selle. How they had laughed and talked. Perhaps—and yet she was not quite satisfied. But she went out and glanced up at the tree. Yes, there was a nest, and a funny, peeping sound, a rustle in the branches. The path had been packed clear down to the gate. Some garden beds were laid out, and the neglected grass trimmed up. It began to look quite pretty. If there was something to do, to keep away thoughts. “Mère Lunde, will you teach me to knit?” she asked suddenly. “And sew, child. A woman needs that.” “I can sew a little. But I have nothing to sew.” “That will be provided if you wish for it. I think your uncle will be glad. I have heard that where there are holy Sisters they teach girls, but we have none here. And now you may help me get the supper.” That tended to divert her troubled thoughts. And then Uncle Gaspard came in with a guest and the meal was a very merry one. Afterward the two sat over the desk busy with writing and talking until she was sleepy and went to bed. She studied Uncle Gaspard furtively the next morning. He asked about the school, and said in the afternoon they would take a walk, and this morning she had better go to market with Mère Lunde.