“Yes, she is very nice,” Lucie acknowledged somewhat flippantly, not being in a mood to accept any suggestion, “but you see every one knows about her. I should like to have as my favorite some one more uncommon. I think I shall ask Sister Marie Ottilia to find me a saint that I can feel very near to because she has not too many followers.” She set the subject aside with an air of finality, and Annette felt that this time she had really gone too far in her desire to tease.
The two were silent till at last Lucie said: “There, Annette, these are the last. I will take them in. The pods Paulette can give to the animals. See, already my pigeons are coming for a share of the peas. I can give them only a few, for Paulette will scold if she thinks I am wasting them. She has a sharp eye for food, that Paulette. Wait for me, Annette, I will bring a book.”
Emboldened by this overture of peace Annette ventured to say: “Not ‘Leetle Veemen.’ I cannot understand that.”
Lucie paused with the brown basin of peas in her hand and threw a laughing glance over her shoulder. “Perhaps you would better like something of Dickens,” she said.
“O, that Deekens! He is an impossible!” cried Annette, throwing out her hands with a gesture of rejection. “Not that, I beg of you.” Lucie made no reply but continued on her way to the kitchen. She was gone some time but at last returned with a green book under arm. She showed the title on the back to Annette with a gleeful laugh.
“Ma foi but you are a tease,” cried Annette. “I will not remain. I will go home at once.” She jumped up in order to carry out her decision.
Lucie forced her back upon the seat. “And why am I not to tease as well as you? To read does not hurt one’s feelings, but to be denied one’s country does,” she said.
“Did I really hurt your feelings?” Annette asked contritely.
“Would it not hurt your feelings if one declared you did not belong to your native country, to France?”
“It would most surely,” Annette was obliged to confess, “but I was only teasing my Lucie. As for this Deekens, he bewilders, he confuses me. Is it because you are angry with me and wish me to go that you bring this so impossible book?”