"Adieu, madame," said the little girl, and off she trotted again, as ready to go as she had been to come.
They say "madame" to every one in France, you know, and not to rich ladies only.
Now there are beautiful hills all round the back of Cannes, and a little way up one of these was the house where Rosy was going to live. She did so like running up and down hills! and there were two or three little ones between the farm and this house, which was called a villa.
When she got on to the top of one, she cried out,—
"Ah, there's the sea, I do declare! and there's a boat on it with a white sail! Shall we go in a boat some day?"
"I don't know," said nurse, "you must ask your mamma; but you don't want to be sick, do you?"
"I won't be sick," cried the little girl. "Rosy is never sick in a beau'ful boat like that. I'll ask my mamma," and she bustled on.
"Stay, stay!" cried nurse, "you're going too far, my pet; this is the way; look, who stands up there?"
Rosy looked up, and there was the villa with its green blinds high up over her head; and some one stood outside the door calling her by name.