One morning a bright sun shone on the village, the sky was blue, and the air mild. Madame Guillois, seated in front of her calli, was warming herself in this last smile of autumn, while mechanically watching the yellow leaves, which a light breeze turned round. Not far from her the children were sporting, chasing each other with merry bursts of laughter. Unicorn's squaw presently sat down by the old lady's side, took her hand, and looked at her sympathisingly.
"Does my mother feel better?" she asked her in her voice which was soft as the note of the Mexican nightingale.
"Thanks, my dear little one," the old lady answered, affectionately, "I am better."
"That is well," Sunbeam replied, with a charming smile; "for I have good news to tell my mother."
"Good news?" she said, hurriedly, as she gave her a piercing glance; "has my son arrived?"
"My mother would have seen him before this," the squaw said, with a tinge of gentle reproach in her voice.
"That is true," she muttered; "my poor Valentine!"
She let her head sink sadly on her bosom. Sunbeam looked at her for a moment with an expression of tender pity.
"Does not my mother wish to hear the news I have to tell her?" she went on.
Madame Guillois sighed.