Then, as the child did not seem to hear her, Hélène sank down in front of her, and clasped her round the waist, asking her in a whisper: “So you would be glad if he came to live with us?” The question seemed to bring no surprise to Jeanne. She was doubtless pondering over this very matter. She slowly nodded her head. “But you know,” said her mother, “he would be always beside us—night and day, at table—everywhere!” A great trouble dawned in the clear depths of the child’s eyes. She nestled her cheek against her mother’s shoulder, kissed her neck, and finally, with a quiver, whispered in her ear: “Mamma, would he kiss you?” A crimson flush rose to Hélène’s brow. In her first surprise she was at a loss to answer, but at last she murmured: “He would be the same as your father, my darling!” Then Jeanne’s little arms tightened their hold, and she burst into loud and grievous sobbing. “Oh! no, no!” she cried chokingly. “I don’t want it then! Oh! mamma, do please tell him I don’t. Go and tell him I won’t have it!” She gasped, and threw herself on her mother’s bosom, covering her with tears and kisses. Hélène did her utmost to appease her, assuring her she would make it all right; but Jeanne was bent on having a definite answer at once. “Oh! say no! say no, darling mother! You know it would kill me. Never! Oh, never! Eh?” “Well, I’ll promise it will never be. Now, be good and lie down.” For some minutes longer the child, speechless with emotion, clasped her mother in her arms, as though powerless to tear herself away, and intent on guarding her against all who might seek to take her from her. After some time Hélène was able to put her to bed; but for a part of the night she had to watch beside her. Jeanne would start violently in her sleep, and every half-hour her eyes would open to make sure of her mother’s presence, and then she would doze off again, with her lips pressed to Hélène’s hand. CHAPTER VIII. It was a month of exquisite mildness. The April sun had draped the garden in tender green, light and delicate as lace. Twining around the railing were the slender shoots of the lush clematis, while the budding honeysuckle filled the air with its sweet, almost sugary perfume. On both sides of the trim and close-shaven lawn red geraniums and white stocks gave the flower beds a glow of color; and at the end of the garden the clustering elms, hiding the adjacent houses, reared the green drapery of their branches, whose little leaves trembled with the least breath of air.