“I shall be better soon. I walked out in the garden to-day.”
“That is right. I can’t think what could have brought this about. Come, you must cheer up and be like your olden self. It makes my heart ache to have you so dreary.”
“Oh, does it really ache for me? Then I must try. Yes, I will try,” in a more cheerful tone.
“That is my own little girl,” and he kissed her fondly. Yes, he would always love her in a way.
The guests came up the next day. Madame Renaud was always bright and cheery. Madame Gardepier brought her little girl, who ran about and prattled and was like a bit of sunshine, sitting a moment in Mère Lunde’s lap, then off again chasing the two half-grown kittens.
Barbe was very charming and gracious and had a good deal to tell about New Orleans, and thought M’sieu Valbonais would enjoy it very much, though no doubt he would long for the old friends and associations. And was he not coming back in a year?
Renée admitted without any change of color that he was. There was no half secret in her face.
“And now you must see Ma’m’selle Renée’s room,” exclaimed Madame Renaud. “It is just full of prettiness and ingenuity.”
Renée led the way, and if admiration could have lightened her heart, surely all the heaviness would have vanished. They were very cordial, and quite insisted upon having a whole day’s visit from her. Uncle Gaspard promised that she should surely come.
As they were walking down the street Barbe said: “She does look poorly. I suppose she has been fretting after M. Valbonais.”