This exclamation naturally elicited no response, and little Jack, not knowing what to say, or how to console her, timidly caressed her hand, even at last kissing it with the fervor of a lover. She started and looked wildly at him. “Ah! cruel, cruel child, what harm you have done me in this world!” Jack turned pale. “I? What have I done?” He loved but one person on the face of the earth, his mother. He thought her absolutely perfect; and without knowing it, he had injured her in some mysterious way. The poor child was now overwhelmed with despair also, but remained utterly silent, as if the noisy demonstrations of his mother had shocked him, and made him ashamed of any manifestations on his own part. He was seized with a sort of nervous spasm. His mother took him in her arms. “No, no, dear child, I was only in jest; be sensible, dear. What! must I rock my long-legged boy as if he were a baby? No, little Jack, you never did me any harm. It is I who did wrong. Come, do not weep any more. See, I am not crying.” And the strange creature, forgetful of her recent grief, laughed gayly, that Jack too might laugh. It was one of the privileges of this inconsequent nature never to retain impressions for any length of time. Singularly enough, too, the tears she had just shed only seemed to add new freshness and brilliancy to her youthful beauty, as a sudden shower upon a dove’s plumage seems to bring out new lustre without penetrating below the surface. “Where are we now?” said she, suddenly dropping the window that was covered with mist. “At the Madeleine. How quickly we have come! We must stop somewhere; at the pastry-cook’s, I think. Dry your eyes, little one, we will buy some meringues.” They alighted at the fashionable confectioner’s, where there was a great crowd. Rich furs and rustling silks crushed each other; and women’s faces with veils half lifted were reflected in the surrounding mirrors which were set in gilt frames and cream-colored panels; glittering glass, and a variety of cakes and dainties delighted the spectators. Madame de Barancy and her child were much looked at. This charmed her, and this small success following upon the mortification of the previous hour, gave her an appetite. She called for a quantity of meringues and nougat, and finished by a glass of wine. Jack followed her example, but with more moderation, his great grief having filled his eyes with unshed tears and his heart with suppressed sighs.