“Dian, stay and talk with us. I have told Vivi everything I know and she has told me so many funny things about her life, but we’re tired now.” Rosanne came running across the room as she spoke, and, catching hold of the shepherd’s hand, drew him over by the window. He noted that she was pale, and for a moment his heart sank. Like Humphrey, he felt a responsibility for them all, but, unlike him, was able, after a moment, to banish his forebodings.

“You will have many adventures to talk over with your friends when you are an old, old woman, Mademoiselle,” he said to her smilingly.

“See what we have for supper! Humphrey brought us garlic and some fresh lettuce,” Rosanne went on, trying to be cheerful, and receiving a reward in Dian’s pleased smile.

They had put an overturned box by the one small window and had spread their supper on it. The lettuce and garlic reposed in a tin plate in the center of the improvised table, and a loaf of bread lay on a clean piece of paper at one side. Next to the plate of lettuce was a small glass filled with a few early violets. Dian came up to the table and stood looking down at it and at Rosanne. He touched one of the violets with his finger.

“A farmer woman gave them to me. She was sitting in her cart near the west gate. I told her that I had some young friends who would love them,” he said.

“Dian, they are like those at Pigeon Valley. Dian, think of it—Pigeon Valley. I was telling Vivi just now about the lilies on the south terrace at Les Vignes, clusters, crowds of them, white and gold. They’ll bloom in June, Dian!” Two tears rolled down Rosanne’s face, but she smiled through them. “I want to see Marie Josephine more than ever to-night. I——”

Dian put his hand gently on her shoulder.

“You are brave,” he said, and then turning toward Vivi he added: “Vivi is brave, too. She is helping us all the time.”

It was the best thing in the world he could have said, for Rosanne forgot herself at once and thought of Vivi.

“Yes, she is the best friend. She is so good to me. When she comes in she has always something for me, and when I am restless she dances for me, and then I dance for her. She has learned to do the minuet with me nicely, but she likes her own dances better.”