“Things are always happening, but to-night they are happy things,” Marie Josephine said to Rosanne, and by way of answer, her friend said excitedly:
“There is Cécile, all in white! She’s holding out her silver wand as she dances. See! She’s looking up at us and smiling, though she cannot see us. It is too dark up here, and we are too far away.”
“I love Cécile better than any one except maman and Lisle and grandfather and Dian and you,” Marie Josephine answered solemnly.
“Not better than your own sister!” exclaimed Rosanne in shocked tones.
Marie Josephine nodded. “Yes, better than Denise. Cécile is like a maiden in a fairy tale, Denise isn’t.”
“Listen. Is that not Gonfleur coming up the stairs? He is bringing the goûter,” said Rosanne.
The girls peered down through the little door at the back of the balcony and after a moment Gonfleur turned a bend and came toward them.
“How fast he is climbing! I did not know his malady, the rheumatism, would permit him to go so fast!” exclaimed Marie Josephine.
When he came a little nearer Rosanne called softly to him:
“Good Gonfleur, you have come with sweets for us. You do well to hurry!”