She lighted a torch and stood it in the corner, and smiled upon Renée.
“Oh, I shall be so glad to come!” cried the child joyfully. “And my room is so pretty.”
She looked with eager eyes from one to the other.
“And the garden is begun. There are vines planted by ma’m’selle’s window. In a month one will not know the place. And it is near to the church and the good father’s house.”
“But I wouldn’t mind if it was a desert, so long as you both were here,” she replied enthusiastically.
“We must go back, little one. They will wonder about you. Just be patient awhile.”
“And thou hast no cap,” said Mère Lunde.
“Oh, that does not matter; the night is warm. Adieu,” taking the hard hand in her soft one. Then she danced away and caught Gaspard’s arm.
“Let us walk about a little,” she pleaded. “The moon is so beautiful.” If they went direct to the Renauds’, he would sit on the gallery and talk to Barbe.
“Which way?” pausing, looking up and down.