"Edmee had no brothers or sisters, and Pierre's mother had been for some time her nurse when she was a tiny baby. The kind woman had left her own little boy to come to the chateau to take care of the Countess's baby, who was so delicate that no one thought she would live, and by her devotion Madame Germain had helped to make her the bright, healthy little girl that she now, at five years old, had become. So, as one always loves those to whom one has been of great service, Madame Germain loved little Edmee dearly, and Edmee loved her. There was nowhere in the village she so much liked to go as to the Germains' little cottage, and no child she cared to play with as much as Pierre, who was only four years older than she, but so gentle and careful with her that no one felt any anxiety when they knew that the little lady, `Mademoiselle,' as she was called, was with Pierre Germain. "Tired with running and laughing, Edmee called to Pierre to help her down the steep stone steps at one end of the terrace, and the two children settled themselves comfortably under the shade of a wide-spreading beech tree. "`Now Pierrot, good pretty Pierrot,' said Edmee coaxingly, `tell Edmee a story--a pretty story.' "`What about? My little lady has heard all the stories I know, so often,' said Pierre, gently stroking the pretty fair hair tumbling over his arm, as she leant her head against him. "`Never mind, I like them again--only _not_ about Red Riding Hood,' said Edmee; `that frightens me so, Pierre; I fancy I am little Red Riding Hood, only then I always think my Pierrot would come running, running _so_ fast, so that the naughty wolf _shouldn't_ eat me. Wouldn't my Pierrot do that? He _wouldn't_ let the naughty wolf eat poor little Edmee?' "`No, indeed--_indeed_! I wouldn't,' said Pierre eagerly. "`I'd get the old sword--you know it, Edmee: father has it hanging up over the door in our cottage; it's rather rusty, but it would be good enough for a wolf--and I'd run at him with it before he could touch you. If he _had_ to eat up somebody, I'd let him eat me first.' "`Oh, don't! don't, Pierrot,' said Edmee, trembling and clinging to him, `I don't say that; don't let us speak about things like that! There are no wolves here, are there? and don't you think, Pierrot dear, if people were very, very kind to all the wolves, and never hunted them, or anything like that--don't you think perhaps the wolves would get kind?' Pierre smiled. "`I'm afraid not,' he said, `but there are no wolves about here.' "`No, no,' repeated Edmee, `no wolves and no naughty people at Valmont. Don't you wish there were no naughty people anywhere, Pierrot?' "`Indeed, I do,' said the boy, and then he sat silent. `What makes you talk about naughty people, Edmee?' "`I don't know,' said Edmee; `sometimes I hear things, Pierrot, that frighten me. I hear the servants talking--they say that some lords like papa are so naughty and unkind. Is it true, Pierrot?'