”‘I don’t care for rabbits, and I don’t care for birds,’ replied Edmond. ‘I don’t mind looking at the picture. You may show it me if you chose.’
“Edmée had kept hold of his hand, and now drew him away.
”‘Come, then,’ she said: ‘we shall look first at the picture, and then we shall go out in the garden, and Pierre will tell us stories, if you don’t care to play with the rabbits. Pierre tells such pretty stories.’
“She was, to tell the truth, so exceedingly anxious to get away from the Marquis, that she was not easily discouraged by Edmond’s ungraciousness. Besides, had not dear little mother whispered to her to be ‘kind to the poor boy?’
“Edmond, who was on the point of allowing her to lead him away, drew back again.
”‘Who is Pierre?’ he said. ‘Is it that boy? I don’t want to play with him.’
“Edmée’s patience seemed about to give way. She looked at her mother appealingly. The Countess took Edmond’s other hand.
”‘Come with me,’ she said decidedly. ‘It is right I should show you Edmond’s picture, as it is in my room. And then we shall see what we can find for you to play at. Come, Pierre, my boy.’
“Edmond could no longer resist; the Marquis, affecting to pay no attention to what was passing, had sat down by the Count, and went on talking to him. Pierre followed the lady and the children into the house.
“The first pleasant look that had been in Edmond’s face came over it at the sight of the picture. He actually smiled.