“You must love that gentleman dearly, for he means to do ever so much for you. Would you like to learn to read and write?”
“Oh, yes! so’s to read pretty stories in the books with pictures in ‘em, like you’ve got. But papa won’t let me go to school.”
“I’ll speak to him and try to make him consent——”
At that moment old Madeleine’s shrill voice was heard, calling the child. He kissed Denise and went into the cabin, while the girl walked rapidly back to the village.
Père Calleux, after passing three days at the wine-shop, resumed his spade and watering-pot; but he would not consent to let Coco go to school, although Denise told him that it would cost him nothing; and old Madeleine would not allow the child to go any farther than the field where his father worked. Denise went to the hovel every morning; she always carried something secretly to the child, but she did not touch Dalville’s money.
“He won’t come back,” said Denise to herself; “here’s a week gone already! Psha! he’s forgotten all about—Coco; still another reason for saving that money. Some day the little fellow will be very glad to have it. And yet that gentleman seemed to want to come again. Of course he’s been to Madame Destival’s, and he didn’t go through our village! What liars they are, those young men from Paris! Still that one has some good qualities. But why did that Monsieur Bertrand tell me to look out for myself?”
The dancing days came around in due course, but Denise’s good spirits did not return, although she did her utmost to appear as of old, and often danced when she felt no desire to do so, and tried to joke with the young men. Her greatest pleasure now was to sit alone under a great oak in her garden, or to go to the cabin and embrace Coco, to whom she talked constantly of the handsome gentleman, who meant to do so much for him.
A month had passed since Auguste’s meeting with Denise, when one morning, as she was about to start for the cabin, a peasant informed her that old Madeleine had died during the night. The little milkmaid ran to the child at full speed. The old woman’s remains had not been removed; and as Calleux was poor and was not liked in the neighborhood, the child was watching alone by the body, while his father made the necessary arrangements for the burial.
Denise halted in front of the solitary hovel, the aspect of which seemed to her more wretched than ever, because Death casts a dark pall over everything wherever he passes. The girl was surprised to find nobody about; she drew nearer and bursts of laughter fell upon her ears. She concluded that the person was mistaken who had told her of the grandmother’s death, and she put her head in at the door. She saw the death bed, beside which a lamp cast a dim light; and close by she saw the child playing with his goat on the straw, and greeting with shouts of laughter Jacqueleine’s antics and caresses.
That picture caused Denise a peculiar sensation. She entered the cabin and walked toward the child, saying: