illusion complete in the eyes of
the members of the household and in her own. The first companion of her
childish play was Philip, who called her sister; and she pillowed her
fair head on the bosom of the Marquise without a shadow of fear and
fondly called her mother. The Marquise loved her as devotedly as she had
loved her own daughter; Coursegol regarded her with an affection whose
fervor was mingled with the deference he owed to the children of his
master. As for the servants, they treated Philip and Dolores with equal
respect; and there were no relatives or friends of the family who did
not take pleasure in exhibiting their fondness for the little creature
whose presence had cured the Marquise of the most terrible of maladies.

It is true that Dolores was such a lovely child no one could help loving
her. She promised to resemble her mother. She had the same luxuriant
golden hair, the same large, dark eyes, the same energy, the same
sweetness of disposition and of voice. The Marquis and Coursegol, who
had seen the gypsy, and who still remembered her, were often struck by
the strong resemblance that seemed to make Tiepoletta live again in
Dolores. The child also possessed the same tender heart, vivid
imagination and honorable instincts. Her mind absorbed with marvellous
facility the instruction which she received from the Marquis and which
she shared with his son. She had a wonderful memory, and what she
learned seemed to be indelibly imprinted upon her mind. She was loving
in disposition, docile and sweet-tempered, and had already won the love
of all who came in contact with her.

Philip actually worshipped his little sister. He was five years her
senior, a large, noisy, almost coarse boy, rather vain of his birth and
of the authority which enabled him to lord it over the little peasants
who sometimes played with him. But these faults, which were destined to
be greatly modified by time, concealed a thoroughly good heart and
disappeared entirely when he was with Dolores.

It was amusing to see the tenderness and care with which he surrounded
her. If they were walking together in the park, he removed all the
stones which might hurt her tiny feet or cause her to stumble. If a
dainty morsel fell to his share at the table, he transferred it from his
plate to that of Dolores. If they dressed her in any new garment, he was
never weary of admiring her, of telling her how beautiful she was, and
of fondling her luxuriant go