“How often do you feed her?”
“But twice in the day.”
“Of green meat that you gather?”
“It is the fashion with us. Is it not so to stall the cattle in the country of monsieur?”
“Only at night. And how often do you feed your little brother?”
The unexpected question completely dumfounded the girl. Ned laughed, put his brush in his mouth, and fetched a louis-d’or from his pocket.
“Will you take this now, Nicette?”
Something to his consternation, she rose hurriedly from her seat, made as if to leave the room, and broke into a little fit of weeping. He went up and spoke to her soothingly—
“Silly, pretty child! are you ashamed? You are none the worse in my eyes for showing some inconsistency. Think only you are in the confidence of one of your strange people. Here, take it, Nicette.”
She threw his hand away. The coin rang on the floor.