"Oh!" continued the unhappy mother, "he has suffered so much; he looked at me, as if for help;" and in calling to mind the sad looks of her child, she could not restrain her sobs. Then Cecilia again, forgetful of her own troubles, withdrew her hand from Comtois' arm, and passing it under that part of his coat which enveloped the child, said to the mother, "Oh! he is very warm: feel him, he moves his little arms; I am sure he is comfortable." "Yes, he does move his arms, I can tell you," said Comtois; "see, he has pulled off the handkerchief which he had on his head;" and Cecilia let go the hand of the little girl to re-arrange the handkerchief. The poor mother knew not how to express her joy and gratitude; but the little girl, who had remained a short distance behind them, because Cecilia no longer held her hand, began to cry. "Come along," then, said her mother; but the poor little thing replied, "I cannot."
Cecilia went to her, and again took her hand, saying, "You must try to come along, my dear."
"How long have you been on foot?" inquired Madame de Vesac.
"Since noon," replied the poor woman. "I had no more money to pay for lodgings; we had eaten all the provisions I had brought for the journey, and I wanted to reach Chambouri."
"And has the child been walking all that time?"
"Yes, the whole time."
"Cecilia is right, my dear," said Madame de Vesac, addressing the little girl. "You must try to walk."
"If Comtois were not carrying the baby," said Cecilia, "I would beg him to take her up."
"Oh! I have another arm," said Comtois; "but then I could not support you, Miss Cecilia."
"Never mind me," said Cecilia. "I am much better able to walk without support, than this poor little thing is to continue the journey on foot."