"That's right,—that's a dear! My barge is 'La Thérèse,'—named after me. We are in the coal trade. I want you to come and see me, petite. You shall take a trip to Rouen. Yes,—would you like to——"
"Oh, very much, madame!" interrupted Fouchette, joyfully.
"You shall."
"And Tartar?"
"Shall go too. We'll have fine times, I promise you. You will find us at the Quai d'Austerlitz when in Paris."
"Thank you,—so much! I've seen the big boats go by lots of times and wished I was on one—one with flowers and vines and a dog—Tartar. And sometimes I've seen 'em in my sleep—yes."
Fouchette at once lost herself in this prospect. It would be the most delightful thing in her life.
"Yes, it is very nice," continued the bargewoman. "Remember, chérie,—'La Thérèse.' You can bring the clothes with you. Ask for me,—'Thérèse.' My husband named the barge after me long ago."
"It's a pretty name," said the child.
"You think so? A name is—what is your real name, petite?"