People take for granted
that one tells truth; it would be very base to cheat them. Do you really
mean that I may come?--in the forest!--and you will tell me stories
like those you give me to read?"
"I will tell you a better story. Lock your hut, Bebee, and come."
"And to think you are not ashamed!"
"Ashamed?"
"Yes, because of my wooden shoes."
Was it possible? Bebee thought, as she ran out into the garden and
locked the door behind her, and pushed the key under the waterbutt as
usual, being quite content with that prudent precaution against robbers
which had served Antoine all his days. Was it possible, this wonderful
joy?--her cheeks were like her roses, her eyes had a brilliance like the
sun; the natural grace and mirth of the child blossomed in a thousand
ways and gestures.
As she went by the shrine in the wall, she bent her knee a moment and
made the sign of the cross; then she gathered a little moss-rose that
nodded close under the border of the palisade, and turned and gave it to
him.
"Look, she sends you this. She is not angry, you see, and it is much more
pleasure when she is pleased--do you not know?"
He shrank a little as her fingers touched him.
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