That promise roused Jacquinot, who went out, promising to make haste, and Jasmin asked Nicole:
“Where is my young master?”
“My fieu?”
“My master, the young Marquis de Grandvilain. He is eleven years old now, my dear Nicole, and it seems to me that he is rather large for you to keep on calling him your fieu.”
“Oh! bless my soul! habit—what do you expect?—He’s in the garden, under the plum trees.”
“Alone?”
“Oh no! Louise is with him, always with him. As if he could get along without her!”
“Ah! is that the little girl who was left here, and whose parents you don’t know?”
“Mon Dieu! yes.”
“And you are still taking care of her?”