"And your father," continued Madame Pradère, "was he always—" here she hesitated a moment, and then finished the sentence with the polite word—"an artist?"
"Yes, Madame," replied Nadine. "His father was the manager of a circus in which he employed his five sons, of whom my father was the youngest. But on the death of my grandfather, and a series of misfortunes which followed it, the circus was broken up and everything sold with the exception of Nalla, and Steady, which fell to my father."
"Steady!" exclaimed Madame Pradère. "Who is that? I know Nalla and Vigilant, but you haven't mentioned Steady before. Is he a clever animal like Nalla, or a comic one like Vigilant?"
"He is an animal that is as gentle as a sheep, and as good as can be," smiled Nadine. "Steady is an old horse, who was once upon a time quite a celebrity, but who having become very old, a little deaf, and somewhat blind, is now fit only to drag the van, which is our home on wheels. All the same he is a very true friend, and we love him dearly for he does us good service. Steady was given his name by my mother who was an equestrienne, and who always mounted him with confidence because his regular movements made her performance so easy. And now, Madame," Nadine concluded with a naïve smile of apology for having talked so much, "I've told you about our whole family."
Just then Madame Pradère heard the sound of a carriage rolling into the courtyard. She sprang up briskly and looked out of the window.
"That's the Mayor returning!" she said. "Wait here a few minutes while I speak to him about you," and giving the girl an encouraging smile, she left the room.
It was, indeed, the Mayor, accompanied by several officers who had been invited to lunch with him. These were former companions of M. Pradère, who had once been a lieutenant in the army, and had retired upon making a brilliant marriage, which rendered him independent. So there were great doings in the chateau.
Nadine with much concern heard the clinking of the swords, and the most appetizing smell of the extra cooking reminded her that the Tamby children had not yet had any breakfast that day, while the permission to perform that she had come to obtain was still in doubt. If it were not granted there was a poor prospect of food for either the family or their animals. Oppressed by these disturbing thoughts she sat there in an attitude of deep dejection.
She was a young thing to be charged with such heavy responsibilities, and not a day passed that she did not keenly feel her youth and weakness. Yet before the other children her brave spirit never seemed to flag, or her resolution to falter. As she had to be both mother and father to them, she strove gallantly to fill her difficult part to the very best of her powers, and in truth it was nothing short of wonderful how well she succeeded. Still there were times when it seemed as if her burdens were becoming too heavy to be longer borne by her.