eful not to seem to have more money than other people; but
I have been able to make soups and things--I have learned to be
quite a cook from seeing Louise at work--and I take them to those
that are very poor, especially if they have children ill, and I
think I have won some of their hearts."

"You win everyone's heart who comes near you, Jeanne, I think,"
Harry said earnestly.

Jeanne flushed a rosy red, but said with a laugh:

"Now, Harry, you are turning flatterer. We are not at the chateau
now, sir, so your pretty speeches are quite thrown away; and now
I shall go and take Virginie's place and send her in to you."

And so another month went by, and then the old nurse quietly
passed away. She was buried, to the girls' great grief, without
any religious ceremony, for the priests were all in hiding or had
been murdered, and France had solemnly renounced God and placed
Reason on His throne.

In the meantime Jeanne had been steadily carrying on her work among
her poorer neighbours, sitting up at night with sick children, and
supplying food to starving little ones, saying quietly in reply to
the words of gratitude of the women:

"My grandmother has laid by savings during her long years of
service. She will not want it long, and we are old enough to work
for ourselves; besides, our brother Henri will take care of us. So
we are glad to be able to help those who need it."

While she worked she kept her ears open, and from the talk of the
women learned that the husbands of one or two of them were employed in
vessels engaged in carrying on smuggling operations with England.
A few days after the death of Louise one of these women, whose
child Jeanne had helped to nurse through a fever and had brought
round by keeping it well supplied with good food, exclaimed:

"Oh, how much we owe you, mademoiselle, for your goodness!"

"You must not call me mademoiselle," Jeanne said, shaking her head.
"It would do you harm and me too if it were heard."

"It comes so natural," the woman said with a sigh. "I was in service
once in a good family before I married Adolphe. But I know that
you are not one of those people who say there is no God, because I
saw you kneel down and pray by Julie's bed when you thought I was
asleep. I expect Adolphe home in a day or two. The poor fellow
will be wild with delight when he sees the little one on its feet
again. When he went away a fortnight ago he did not expect ever
to see her alive again, a